


Goblet of Crack

by Marathon_Zack_140_6



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anal Sex, Book 4: Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, Crack, F/M, Ginny Weasley Bashing, I Can't Believe I Wrote This, Molly Weasley Bashing, Not for the faint of heart, Pegging, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Ron Weasley Bashing, Severus Snape Bashing, Sex, Shameless Smut, Threesome - F/F/M, Very very crack, Weasleycest (Harry Potter), all the sex, crack!, read at your own peril
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-27
Updated: 2020-07-01
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:34:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 30
Words: 58,912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23875546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marathon_Zack_140_6/pseuds/Marathon_Zack_140_6
Summary: CRACK. 4th Year ridiculous crack rewrite w/ an unhealthy amount of smut.Ron, Ginny, Mrs W, Snape BASHING[Hermione x Harry, w/ some Fleur]
Relationships: Fleur Delacour/Hermione Granger/Harry Potter, Hermione Granger/Harry Potter
Comments: 71
Kudos: 301





	1. The Goblet of Fire

**Author's Note:**

> This story is very, very much E. Both language and sex. And sexy language. If you don’t want to read that, please turn away now. This story certainly isn’t for everyone. And if at any point you think it starts getting weird, just wait a while — it’ll probably get weirder. But for everyone still here that wants crack and sex and sexy crack, enjoy.
> 
> 1.5: Heavy Snape, Ron, Ginny, and Mrs Weasley bashing. It’s in the tags above, I’m repeating it here, if you don’t like that then leave now, just don’t flame in the comments. You have been fairly warned.
> 
> 2: Completely written. 57,910 total words before final editing, excluding A/N’s. Chapters are generally 1400-2600 words long, and 30 chapters in total. New chapters going up Monday, Wednesday, Friday.
> 
> 3: And finally before I let you get on with it, this is hands down the supreme, absolute, worst thing I have ever written. Sorry, not sorry. To quote Fitz from a totally different universe — "Whot. The Hell?!” Enjoy!

The inferno in the goblet turned red yet again, before vomiting out a fourth piece of parchment.

Catching it on its way down, Dumbles read it, leaving the Hall in great suspense as to what could have possibly happened. But after a second that stretched on forever, the Hogwarts Headmaster shouted out:

“Harry Potter!”

Then as if he couldn’t believe it himself, Dumbles looked back down at the slip, before suddenly exclaiming, “Hey, wait a minute — this doesn’t say ‘Hogwarts’. This says ‘Hagworts’ — that’s not a real school!”

Harry, who’d been in the process of sitting there completely frozen in shock at being chosen for a tournament he hadn’t entered himself into, abandoned that in favor of looking up at Dumbles with everyone else, and staring at _him_ in complete, total, and utter befuddlement.

Dumbles looked back up at the students, and stuttered out, “Well…uh…Harry…uh…if you’ll…uh…come into the…uh…other room with me, we’ll…uh…try to figure this out.”

Quickly realizing that Harry wasn’t walking anywhere without literally being pulled there, and not wanting him to have to go anywhere alone at the moment anyway, Hermione quickly stood up, and pulled Harry up with her. Then she drug him with her up to the staff table, and into the side room with Dumbles, McG, Snape, Mad-Eye, Karka, Maxime, Bagyman, and Señor Crouchy.

“Excuse me, everyone,” boomed Dumbles’ voice in the almost deathly quiet room as soon as the door had loudly banged shut behind them. “In a very strange turn of events, Mr Potter here’s name has also come out of the goblet, from a school that doesn’t even exist. Harry, Hermione, please wait over there with the Champions while we try to sort out what this means, and how we must proceed.”

As Harry and Hermione walked over to where the Champions were gathered, where Fleur immediately threw her arms around both of them in an extremely tight hug, whispering, “Oh, you poor zing! 'ow _could_ zis 'ave 'appened!?”, Dumbles and the rest of the adults gathered together on the other side of the room to discuss what next.

Almost immediately, Snape, eyes blazing with malice and hatred, vociferated, “Expel the mother-effer! He’s flaunted the rules yet again! Do what you should have done every year since he first came here ignoring the school’s rules like he ignores my teaching.”

“What teaching?” muttered Professor McG to herself under her breath, but otherwise everyone ignored the bitter snake who was entirely incapable of taking responsibility for his own mistakes leading to both Lily marrying James instead of him, and then getting Lily killed by Voldypants.

“This was clearly very dark magic, done by someone very powerful on Voldypants’ orders, to attempt to kill Harry Potter without actually having to kill him themselves,” said Dumbles. “Because I’m sure we can all agree that no student, and especially not an underage one, could not only have crossed all three of our age lines, but also tricked the sacred goblet into believing ‘Hagworts’ is actually a school of witchcraft and wizardry.”

There were fervent nods by both of the other headmasters.

“So the question is, what do we do now to best protect Harry Potter? And what options _do_ we have, as the goblet is a magically binding contract for those who enter and their names come out,” Dumbles continued on.

“What would ‘appen if ‘e didn’t compete?” asked Madam Maxime.

Dumbles turned to Señor Crouchy to answer that.

“He would lose his magic, like anyone else who’s name came out of the goblet,” answered Señor Crouchy. “We really have no choice but to make him compete, though obviously some concessions should be made to keep him alive in a task he is ill-equipped for. I mean, they would _all_ be ill-prepared if we truly believed they weren’t going to find out the tasks ahead of time, but Mr Potter doubly so.”

“But how do we keep him alive?” sobbed Professor McG to no one in particular.

“What options do we have available then, if he must compete?” growled Karka.

“Who is that girl with him?” asked Ludicrous Bagyman far too cheerfully for the somber mood the others were trying to facilitate.

“Hermione Granger, brightest witch of the age, fellow fourth year student, and clearly, to everyone except the two of them and the matriarch and youngest two children of the Weasley clan, Harry’s soulmate,” answered Mad-Eye gruffly.

“Well, I know this is kind of the opposite direction we were trying to go here, but could we let them compete together, if she was willing to? Two heads are better than one, after all, unless you’re talking about dragons,” said Ludicrous Bagyman.

“I know eet iz not popular around ‘ere, but zere are spellz to increase a witch or wizard’s magical strength,” offered Maxime. “Perhaps eet iz possible to make an exception ‘ere?”

“I think those are both great ideas,” replied Dumbles. “But as that will give him a substantial advantage over the other Champions, and he didn’t enter to compete to begin with, I would add the recommendation that he be excluded from the possibility of winning, if that is possible, Señor Crouchy. He simply competes so as not to lose his magic, but is not scored or eligible to win.”

“And if he reaches the cup first?” asked Karka before Señor Crouchy could answer.

“Excluding him from winning should be fine, but to address that, I believe it would be best to still score him, but give him all zeros so as to keep him from entering the maze for as long as possible according to the rules, and then instruct him to just enter the maze and not go anywhere, until one of the three Champions gets to the cup,” answered Señor Crouchy.

Everyone nodded in agreement, except Snape, who was too busy gnashing his teeth and plotting how to make Harry’s life even more of a living hell than he already did, and oddly enough, Mad-Eye, who was lurking in a shadowy corner scowling, but no one noticed this. And Snape gnashing his teeth over Harry was such a normal occurrence that none of them thought twice about it.

~HP~

Meanwhile, across the room, Fleur had sat down in one of the conveniently available cushy armchairs in front of the fire, pulling Harry down into her lap with her.

She also pulled Hermione down into Harry's lap, facing Harry. Both of them were peppering kisses all along Harry's neck, and Fleur’s long arms were wrapped around both of them, holding Hermione’s chest firmly flattened against Harry’s chest and Harry’s back firmly flattened against _her_ chest, all in a noble gesture to reassure him that they were all there for him, no matter what happened.

Surrounded by perky boobs on both sides, Harry was quite relaxed and calm about his future by the time the adults broke up their little pow-wow, and walked back over to the students.

“Unfortunately, due to the magical contract of the Goblet, Harry is bound to compete in the tournament, or else he will lose his magic,” began Dumbles without preamble. “However, before anyone gets all in a tizzy, we believe we have come up with a few altercations that will make this ordeal easier for Harry, while maintaining the integrity of the tournament and the three school champions.

“First off, there are certain magical spells that can increase a person’s magical power, that while not teaching them any new spells, will make the spells they already know and learn during the upcoming months, several years more powerful than they currently are.

“Secondly, should Miss Hermione Granger here be willing to, we are prepared to allow her to join with Mister Potter in the tasks, as with the exception of dragons and other fantastically dangerous beasts, two heads are almost always better than one. And should Miss Granger consent to this, she also would receive an identical boost in her magical power.

“Thirdly, to avoid any cries of foul play by having a pair of magically enhanced contestants in the tournament, and to reduce the stress of the tournament on Mister Potter — and presumably Miss Granger — as much as possible, Team Potter will not be eligible to win the Triwizard Cup, or the thousand galleon grand prize. Scores of zero will still be given during the first two tasks, simply for reasons pertaining to the third task we won’t tell you about now. Spoilers.

“And finally, since this tournament is legally restricted to of-age witches and wizards this time by the British Ministry, Harry has already been, and Hermione will be immediately should she accept, emancipated, and the magical power increase from the aforementioned spell will forcibly expel the Ministry’s Traces from their bodies.

“Does this sound reasonable to all parties involved?”

“Anything to help the Boy-Who-Lived survive again,” said Krum, broodingly.

“Hogwarts students always stick together, so if this is Harry’s best shot, then absolutely,” added Diggory.

“Of course! Zis iz ‘Arry Potter we’re talking about!” cried Fleur. “And ze three of us should be able to ‘elp ‘im as well!"

“Anything to help Harry,” finished Hermione, burrowing into Harry's chest even more deeply.

“Then it is settled,” said Dumbles. “Madam Maxime assures me that Fleur knows how to perform a magical power enhancement charm, so before we leave the three of them up to it, Señor Crouchy has a few instructions to give about the tournament.”

“Of course, Dumbles,” replied Señor Crouchy. “The first task will occur at eleven on November the twenty-fourth, in front of the whole school. And as these are highly dangerous tasks that could easily result in the loss of limbs, if not even life, and you will be required to perform them in front of the entire school, adding ridicule and embarrassment to the list of dangers, we will not be telling you anything about the first task until right before you have to do it.

“Additionally, like always, the champions are not permitted to ask for or accept help of any kind from their teachers to complete the tasks in the tournament, which will entirely be on a honor system, and we won’t be checking with any teachers to make sure you aren’t working with them. And certainly don’t go snooping around the edge of the Forbidden Forest the few days before the first task.”

Turning to Dumbles, he finished, “I believe that is about it, Albus, and anything I’ve forgotten must not be too important or I wouldn’t have forgotten it."

“Very good,” replied Dumbles cheerfully. “Now if all the adults would like to come back to my office to get plastered, and Diggory and Krum return to their lodgings where I’m sure their classmates will have illicitly obtained copious amounts of beverage to celebrate their being selected, we will leave Harry and Hermione in the capable hands of Miss Fleur to spiffy up the fourth champions’ magic.”


	2. A Special Spell

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As the first smut/pwp chapter, this is really the first look at what the rest of the story will be like. So if you don’t like this chapter, and especially if you didn’t like the first chapter much either, you’d probably be best off looking for a new story. Because it’s not going to get any better — in fact, this is even fairly low on the smut/pwp scale compared to later chapters. Like I at least hinted at before, this story probably isn’t for most people.

Everyone soon filtered out, leaving Harry and Hermione alone with the French beauty.

Always the intellect, as soon as everyone had left Hermione immediately asked, “So how does this spell work, and what exactly will it do?"

“Zis particular spell will combine your magics into a single core zat resides in both of you, zat you can both tap into. Eet will not give you ze combined strength of both of you, but it will make you more magically powerful zan any ozzer student ‘ere,” answered Fleur, before smirking broadly. “And we are ze French. What do _you_ zink? Eet iz a sex spell.”

Hermione’s jaw dropped to the floor, echoing loudly through the empty room.

After a second, she picked it back up and placed it like Harry’s, which was merely gaping at the girl from Beauxbatons. But said girl seemed less than bothered by their reactions. In fact, it rather seemed like she might have expected it, and had said what she had so bluntly with the sole intention of getting such a reaction.

“Oh, don’t worry — I’ll be naked wiz you to make you feel more comfortable,” she added after a few seconds of enjoying their shock, before without warning pulling her robes up over her head, revealing her stark naked, and very attractive body to them.

Despite her reassurances not to worry, it rather had the opposite effect on Harry and Hermione. Neither of them had ever had sex before, and now they were apparently supposed to do it in front of this vision of beauty, leaving them both feeling rather inadequate.

“Chop, chop,” came Fleur’s voice a second later, much more business-like than they’d heard it before, and serving to very effectively pull them out of their states of shock and into the very real present.

Taking charge, as he _was_ the one (between him and Hermione) who’s name had been puked out by the Goblet, Harry slowly pulled his robes up over his head, revealing his own nakedness.

Now, it is a little know fact about witches and wizards that wizarding society does not permit the wearing of any kind of clothing under their robes.

First year muggleborns are permitted to briefly, until their first meeting with their Head of House, who enlightens them on the finer points of wizarding customs, before making them strip naked in front of them before putting back on just their school robes, to make sure they do as they’re supposed to. And when the muggleborns return to their dorms later that day, they find that all of their non-robe articles of clothing have been removed from their trunks by a house elf, to be returned at the end of the year when they go home for summer. From second year on (and first year for half- and purebloods who already know the rules before attending school for the first time), this has the advantage of increasing their trunk space for more important items, as none of it is filled with unnecessary clothing.

Unsurprisingly, most muggleborns find this a rather awkward meeting, as had certainly been the case for both Harry and Hermione. It hadn’t been bad for Harry to pull off his robes, and then shirt in front a stern Professor McG, but the awkwardness had increased substantially when he pushed his shorts down his legs leaving him standing there in just his boxers, and then increased exponentially more so when she demanded he push those down as well, leaving him completely starkers in front of his Head of House and the school Matron, his sizable cock hanging freely for them to see. And it had to his surprise then become even more uncomfortable when the Matron had walked over waving her wand all over him, before running her hands over every inch of his body, making sure he was healthy and fit. But just when he thought things couldn’t get any more uncomfortable, she had started jerking off his dick that was understandably hard from having a female run their hands all over his body while he had to stand there butt naked in front of another woman as well.

But all Professor McG had said was, “Relax, Mister Potter. Madam P just needs to make sure all of you is in top operating condition.” Harry had soon spurted all over the front of Madam P’s robes, which Professor McG had vanished with a wave of her wand. Soon after, Madam P announced that she had finished her exam, and Harry was allowed to put his robes — and just his robes — back on. It had felt really strange to have his dick just flopping about underneath his robes and a cool breeze tickling his balls, and many a time over the next few weeks he’d gotten random hard-ons when the thought that he was around an entire student population while completely naked beneath his robes had occurred to him, but eventually they had dissipated to just occurring when the thought crossed his mind that all the girls were _also_ stark naked underneath _their_ robes.

The meeting hadn’t been much more comfortable for Hermione, though she had at least known that it was coming, having read multiple books about wizarding customs, along with _Hogwarts: A History_ the summer before coming. But it hadn’t really made it any better when she’d actually had to take her shirt off in front of Professor McG and Madam P, revealing the pale blue lace bra she had on underneath, or immediately after when she had to unbutton her jeans and push them down her hips, exposing matching knickers. Then the real awkwardness came when she pushed her knickers down her legs and reached behind her back to unclasp her bra, letting them both drop to the floor. Or at least so she thought, until Madam P strolled over waving her wand, and then starting to run her hands all over Hermione’s body. But the final culmination of awkwardness occurred when Madam P had made it to between Hermione’s legs, and entered a finger into Hermione's slicker than she would have liked to admit slit, while her thumb rubbed over Hermione’s clitoris — that part certainly hadn’t been included in _Hogwarts: A History_!

Just like with Harry several hours before, and with every other student who passed through her office (for while non-muggleborns came with no clothing, they still had to meet with their Head of House to make sure they were obeying the laws, and for Madam P to check them over for health), McG simply said, "Relax, Miss Granger. Madam P just needs to make sure all of you is in top operating condition.” And just like with every other student, once Hermione’s inner walls had clenched around Madam P’s fingers (she was up to two) and she had come, McG waved her wand to clean up the juices, and shortly after Madam P had given the all clear for Hermione to put her robes — and just her robes — back on. And as should be rather easily expected from the description of Harry’s experience, when Hermione looked in her trunk that evening, she found all of her clothing with the exception of her school robes to be gone. Like Harry with his dick and balls, it had taken Hermione a while to get used to the feel of her breasts jiggling freely underneath her robes and the cool breeze passing across her exposed slit, but it had eventually become normal, and felt far more strange putting on knickers and a bra and shirt and jeans at the end of the train ride back to King’s Cross than it was stripping it all off and going bare underneath the robes as soon as she got back on the train at the end of break to head back to Hogwarts.

But four years later, they had both gotten used to the idea of going around school and Hogsmeade in naught but their robes, and had even gotten used to the surprise checks that teachers randomly gave to make sure everyone was obeying the rules. The first few weeks of the beginning of each term all the teachers randomly selected one student at both the beginning and end of class to step into their office and show that they were in fact naked underneath their robes, and then for the remainder of the school year, randomly selected a student from time to time at the end of class to stay an extra minute to show that they were still in accordance with the rules and regulations. Fortunately, _these_ encounters did not involve any jerking off, as neither Harry nor Hermione had any interest in being jerked off by the likes of Snape. And as punishment for disobeying was immediate expulsion from the school and mandatory appearance at a full Wizengamot trial for inappropriate clothing, no one ever disobeyed. Anyway, after the first few months of the first year, it became so normal that none of them even thought about trying to find or owling away for clothes to wear under (since all the one’s they’d brought with them had been safely stored away after their meeting), and from second year on none of them bothered filling precious space in their trunks with clothes they knew they couldn’t wear.

But back in the room off the side of the Great Hall, Hermione had reluctantly followed Harry’s example, and pulled her own robes off, revealing her breasts and the rest of her naked form to Harry for the very first time. She had only glanced over at Harry briefly when he’d been taking his robes off before staring down at hers knowing she had to do it sooner or later, so she might as well just go ahead and get it over with. But now that her robes were tossed onto a conveniently placed nearby table, she turned to look at Harry fully, and take in all of his magnificence that she’d soon really be having to take in.

Little Harry was standing proudly at full mast, from having Fleur’s large breasts pressing into his back, Hermione’s much preferable small ones pressed into his front, and both of them peppering his neck with kisses, but unbeknownst to Harry, Hermione was gushing like a geyser as well.

Fleur grabbed her wand from where she’d stuck it behind her ear and waved it over the chair they’d been sitting in just a few minutes before, transforming it into a comfy looking bed. Patting it, she smiled cheekily at the pair.

“ ‘Arry, on your back.”

Glancing over at Hermione, who merely shrugged in return, Harry slowly crawled onto the bed, and lay down on his back like commanded. Hermione climbed onto the bed after him a few seconds later as Fleur waved her over, straddling Harry’s legs on her knees.

“Come on, don’t be shy,” urged Fleur as Hermione paused just north of Harry’s knees. “It may be big, but it’s not going in _zat_ far away.”

Hermione groaned at Fleur’s quip, but moved forward. When she was finally straddling Harry’s penis, though with still several inches between her slit and his sword as she was still entirely up on her knees, Fleur pulled her wand back out from behind her ear and knelt on the bed herself, right next to Hermione. Then she stuck her non-wand hand out and swiped a finger across Hermione’s slit, almost cooing with delight as she felt the abundance of slickness.

“Looks like someone wants zis,” she purred, before diving a finger in and asking, “Ever done it before?”

Hermione shook her head, so Fleur pointed her wand at Hermione’s junction and muttered, “ _Virginus Relaxus_.”

Hermione immediately felt her walls loosen slightly and a puddle of juices drip out and land on Harry’s quivering cock.

“I’m not going to ‘ave to tell you ‘ow to do everything, am I?” admonished Fleur with a cock of her eyebrow as Hermione just sat there on her knees not moving. “Lubricate ‘im up real good and take your proper place on ‘im."

Hermione rolled her eyes at the older girl, but lowered herself onto his dick and slid up and down, coating it in her abundance of juices. Finally, content she couldn’t get him any wetter than she already had, she leaned back up slightly, reached between her legs and grabbed his thick member, before sitting down on it slowly, letting her body weight take her down until she was fully seated.

“Good girl,” said Fleur, reaching out and laying a hand on Hermione’s shoulder. “Now we ‘ave to wait a few seconds for your magical cores to connect, and I can cast ze spell. So in ze meantime, zere’s a few extra things you should know.

“Like I said before, zis spell will combine your magical cores into one. Now, you’ll both get a magical increase from zat even if you never saw each ozzer again, but ze closer you are after zis, ze stronger your magic will be. Physical proximity and friendship build ze bond slightly, kissing escalating into snogging and fully making out increase ze power further, and sex has ze strongest impact of all, with ze exception of marriage, which binds your cores doubly, and given ‘ow powerful you two already are from all accounts, would make you one 'ell of a pair — but I’m getting ahead of myself zere.

“Another benefit you get is zat with your cores magically bonded, you share a small amount of emotional energy when connected, and it ties your orgasms togezzer. Which means each of you will slightly feel ze ozzer’s orgasm along with your own when you’re ‘aving sex togezzer, and you’ll come togezzer, at least when ‘Arry comes. It is still possible for ‘Ermione to still be ‘igh enough to get a second one in immediately after since her innate female ability to ‘ave multiple orgasms can sometimes override ze bond zat ties your orgasms togezzer, but it’s not common. But to make up for zat, ze female’s ability to come multiple times in a row is partially transferred to ‘Arry, in zat 'is refractory time between first and second rounds is reduced to basically shorter zan ze amount of time it will take you both to come down from your ‘ighs and be ready for anozzer round. And while refractory times slowly grow back to unbonded levels as ze number of subsequent rounds increases, times between second and third, and third and fourth are still far below normal, so you may always come togezzer, but you can still easily get in more rounds zan most people want after ze initial novelty of it wears off. And any non-penetrative sexual acts are completely unaffected, which does mean normal refractory times for ‘Arry if you suck him off.

“Finally, since it’s time to get zis going, once I cast ze spell, everything I mentioned above will go into effect immediately, and when you orgasm togezzer, it will seal ze bond between you two. It will take about a week for your magic to reach its full initial increase, but you should notice an improvement as early as tomorrow morning. And speaking of which, you’ll both sleep a really long time tonight, and especially after the party I’m sure your dorm with ‘ave for you when you get back. Now —“

She waved her wand in a lot of complicated motions, speaking a steady stream of French, before there was finally a goldish-red glow around Harry and Hermione, and Fleur stuck her wand behind her ear again, and said in the worst Western accent ever uttered, “Ride ‘em, cowgirl!”

Three rounds later, plus a fourth where Fleur convinced Hermione to let _her_ take a ride on the Harry Cock Train, and they parted ways in the Entrance Hall, where Fleur headed down to the Beauxbatons Carriage as Harry and Hermione headed up to Gryffindor Tower and the party they were sure the twins had started long ago without Harry.


	3. Party In Gryffindor

Harry and Hermione climbed up through the castle until they finally arrived at the Fat Broad's portrait.

They thought they could hear the faint sound of a raucous party drifting through the stone walls, and sure enough, as soon as the portrait swung open, they were knocked on their butts by the blast of noise that met them — well, perhaps it was actually an orange ball of fur shooting out the entrance at breakneck speed to finally escape the cacophony, hitting them in their already wobbly legs after all the extracurricular activities they'd just engaged in, that actually knocked them down. But either way, they ended up on their butts as soon as the portrait door opened.

A second later, twin heads of red popped out of the portrait hole and looked down at the pair.

"There you are!"

"So glad you made it!"

"We started without you, hope you don't mind!"

"Come on in!"

Two arms reached down and pulled them back up to their feet, and into the Gryffindor common room. As soon as the rest of the crowd saw them enter, the noise redoubled in cheers and laudations.

But there was one face in the room that wasn't jubilatious.

Ronald Weasley sat in the corner all alone as everyone pounced on the Golden Duo, scowling his scowliest scowl. After an hour or so, after everyone had congratulated Harry — and Hermione once news spread that she was now the second fourth champion, though this news hadn't yet reached Ron in his secluded corner, so he didn't know why the know-it-all was now getting congratulated just as much as Harry — and Harry and Hermione had both replenished all the energy they had recently expended (though, once again, unknown by Ron, and in this case, everyone else as well), Ron finally stood up to go confront his best friend/mortal archenemy/dormmate.

Storming over, even more irritated than he had been an hour before when Harry had finally made it back up to Gryffindor Tower, Ron interjected himself into the conversation Harry and Hermione were having with the twins by growling like a feral lion, "So how'd you do it? I really thought you might have told _me_ , your best friend, that you were going to enter, and how you were going to do it — you know, best BFF friends forever and all that jazz."

"You heard Dumbles. Someone entered me under the fake school 'Hagworts'," replied Harry calmly, looking over at the boy who turned his back on those he said he was friends with faster than the captain of the Titanic jumped ship after assuring his first mate that they didn't need to adjust course simply because there was some gigantic measly iceberg in their path.

"But how did you cross the age lines, and persuade an ancient, magical, and rather unpractically large drinking vessel that your stupid school exists and that you go there?" shouted Ron at the tippy top of his lungs, causing everyone to clasp their hands over their ears in a vain attempt to save their eardrums.

"I really didn't," replied Harry, wondering if hearing would ever fully return in the ear that had been closest to the youngest male Weasley's maw.

But like most people who know so much that isn't so, Ron wasn't in the mood for listening to reason, preferring good ol' fashioned strong emotions in lieu of facts.

"You just did this for the fame! You couldn't stand that I was finally becoming almost as popular as you" — here Harry, Hermione, and the twins all stared at each other, wondering what rock Ron had been living under that he thought he was becoming anywhere near as famous as Harry — "so you had to go and enter yourself into this stupid tournament so everyone would start paying attention to you again, you attention whore!" pontificated the redhead for all to hear, even those in common rooms several floors and wings and towers and lawns away.

"Pretty sure you've got more attention than me at the moment," muttered Harry quietly to Hermione and the twins, but Ron was too busy fuming to hear it and probably wouldn't have been too pleased if he had. Then Harry continued on directly to Ron, "If you'd paid any real attention to me over the past three plus years, you'd know I hate the attention I get, and I've never done anything to seek out or try to increase the attention placed on me by this blasted rumor-mongering school. I swear to you on your mum's saggy tits, I didn't put my name in that goblet. Someone else had to of done it."

"Oh _please_ ," spat Ron. "Who would enter a lying, cheating, fame slut like you?"

And then with dizzying suddenness, his sneer was replaced with an 'I'm your best friend, you can tell me anything' imitation-care look that he could have only learned from his mother, as he said almost soothingly, "It's okay, you know, you can tell me the truth. If you don't want everyone else to know, I completely understand, but there's no reason to lie to me, your oldest friend — you didn't get into trouble for it, did you? That friend of the Fat Lady's, that Violet fella, she's already told us all that Dumbles is letting you enter. And a thousand Galleons prize money and don't have to do end-of-year tests either, eh? Sounds right up your alley, and just this morning you told me you'd have done it last night when no one would've seen you. I'm not stupid, you know."

Harry wanted to retort, ' _Could've fooled me_ ,' but knew it wouldn't help the situation any or bring down the volatile volcano that was Ronald Bilius Weasley at the moment. So instead he said, "I don't care about the money, I don't mind school or final exams and am going to take them anyway, even though I don't have to, and for the last time, I swear I didn't enter myself."

Ron's mood swings were back and in full force, as after dry-heaving when Harry said he was going to take the final exams anyway, he towered up to his not all that menacing full height and bellowed, "Well I swear to you that since you refuse to tell me how you did it, _friend_ , I will not rest until I've found the spell to bring hellfire and brimstone raining down on your head and cast it upon you! Now — I'm off to bed."

And he turned and stormed away, just barely catching himself before he tried to enter the girls' staircase.

Once he'd disappeared around the bend of the correct staircase, the twin-ier of the twins looked back at Harry and Hermione and said, "I guess that bit about not resting doesn't start until later."

The party soon roared back to life, until eventually Harry and Hermione were so worn out and stuffed that they could barely keep their eyes open, and about half the party had already headed off to bed themselves.

"Uh...Ron," groaned Harry as he looked towards the archway leading to his staircase as he and Hermione stood between the entrances, parting ways for the night.

"You know…" said Hermione thoughtfully. "I might have a way to solve that, at least for tonight. But I'll need help from some of the other girls, as I can't carry you by myself."

And with that she turned and whistled shrilly, immediately garnering everyone's undivided attention.

Once everyone was looking at her, she said, "Hey girls — just so Harry here doesn't have to sleep in the same room as Ron tonight, and risk waking up to find it raining hellfire and brimstone in his four-poster, I'm going to let him share my bed with me, but I need some help carrying him up the stairs. So anyone who wants to help the Gryffindor champion, get over here."

Even though every girl in that room knew there was no way Ron could find and learn a spell to even make Harry twitch slightly in discomfort if he had all the rest of his life to do so, there were immediately fifteen girls surrounding Harry and Hermione, happy to help the poor boy in need.

Lavender, Sally-Anne, and Parvati from Hermione's dorm, along with three seventh years, all picked up Harry, and started carrying him up the stairs.

As they spiraled upwards, Hermione told Harry, "Not that I'm sure you mind at all, but if a boy steps foot on the girls' staircase, it automatically flattens out and turns into a stone slide, so this is the only way for me to get you up to my dorm. An original Hogwarts piece of magic based on the silly idea that girls are more trustworthy than guys. I mean seriously — just look at us."

There was an immediate outburst of tittering, that proved nearly deafening in the cramped staircase. But eventually they made it up to Hermione's dorm with hearing still fully intact, a dorm that like Harry's was at the very top of the tower, and they set Harry back down inside said dorm room.

"Thanks, girls," chirped Hermione, and all but her own dormmates headed out, closing the door behind them.

A quick shower later — for which Hermione expressly forbade any of the other girls from entering the bathroom to try to get a peak of not-so-little Harry, since all the showers were completely open, and during which she refused to let Harry try going down on her for the first time — and the two of them crawled into bed together, warm and naked.


	4. Extra Effects

By the time Harry and Hermione awoke the following morning, the sun was high in the sky and all the other girls had cleared out.

During the middle of the night, Hermione had shifted around in her sleep to where she was lying on top of Harry, his rock-hard penis buried deep inside her vagina. Since Harry wasn’t awake yet, she sat up her knees, making sure not to pull off of him. She wiggled her hips slightly to make sure he was still out of it, before licking her fingers and beginning to rub her clit slowly. When she had first come up with this plan, she’d been thinking she could get in a quick one while stuffed, and then when he woke up with his lap covered in her juices, possibly with her walls still fluttering around him, she would ride him to an orgasm of his own, and hopefully a second one for her. But as she began working her nub, she remembered that they were connected now, and he would come with her, which she found even more enticing.

Nothing like a mind-blowing, earth-shattering orgasm to wake up with.

She didn’t know if it was a side-effect of the spell and their connected magic, or if it was just from waking up stuffed full, but quicker than she was used to, she could feel her release building up inside her, ready to blow. And before she was prepared for it, her insides seemingly exploded, sending fire raining through every vein and nerve in her body.

When she finally came back to herself, she found Harry gently stroking her hair, waiting for her to come back to the land of the cognizant.

“If that’s how I get woken up every morning, I might not mind waking up at the early hour you normally do,” he said cheekily, smirking down at her.

Not to be outdone, she wiggled her hips, finding him hard as a rock inside her again, ready for a round two.

Before the night before, she’d never seriously thought about having sex with Harry. Sure, she really liked him, and maybe had some well-buried feelings for him that even _Alohomora_ couldn’t unlock, and maybe knew that the fact that she had been able to grab his wand first year and on the spur of the moment use it to unlock a secure door leading to a three-headed dog meant that there was more to her and Harry’s connection than either of them had ever discussed in all the time she’d been friends with him since then, but he was Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived — he would never be interested in little ol’ bushy-haired, bookworm, know-it-all, mudblood Hermione Granger. And was she _really_ interested in a relationship with him, anyway?

Okay, so the answer to that was definitely yes.

But here she was now, having her fifth round of sex with him in twelve hours, and though neither of them had brought the topic up yet, it certainly seemed like it was going to continue. Never in a million years would she have guessed that the fiery goblet would have brought her to this amazing point in her life. Though she supposed she did have the slivery-blonde French Veela to thank for that as well, as she had a sneaking suspicion that there were other magical core-bonding spells that didn’t involve Harry sticking his penis up her vagina.

When they came down from their second orgasm of the morning and Hermione had slid off of him to lay curled into his side, Harry looked down at where they’d just been connected.

“Looks like we need another shower before we head down for brunch.”

Hermione reached over and ran her hand over his cock, collecting as much of their combined juices as she could on her palm, before reaching up and smearing them all over Harry’s face.

“I don’t know — that seems a pretty good look for you,” she deadpanned, before they both burst out in giggles a second later.

Getting up, they strolled naked into the restroom, and quickly showered off. Walking back out into the dorm room still naked, they quickly threw on robes — Harry the ones he’d been wearing the night before that had been washed by house elves during the night, and Hermione new ones, although hers from the night before had been laundered as well like normal — and walked out onto the landing outside the door leading into the fifth year girls’ dorm.

“Well, here goes. See you at the bottom of the slide,” said Harry, before taking a step down the stairs.

And then another step.

And then another.

He turned to look back up at Hermione, who was looking down at him with just as much confusion as he was looking up at her with. The stairs were most definitely supposed to be turning into a slide by now, she’d seen it happen several times during her previous three years there. But it most certainly wasn't happening at the moment.

“Uh…” said Harry ever so articulately.

“Yeah,” replied Hermione, understanding the situation just as well as Harry.

After a second of them both just standing there, Hermione continued, “Well, I guess just walk down, and see if anything changes. Maybe boys just aren’t allowed _up_ the stairs, or else for some reason the rules don’t seem to apply to you.”

They made it down the stairs safely, where Hermione then had Harry try walking back up them. He only walked up to the first landing, the entrance to the seventh year girls’ dorm room before walking back down, but the stairs made nary a peep at his presence.

“Looks like I won’t have to get the girls to carry you anymore,” said Hermione with a shrug when he had returned, and they headed out of the common room to grab a bite to eat.

They had just started walking down the hall, when Harry suddenly stopped short, staring at Hermione.

“Are your —?” he began, before suddenly cutting off.

“Are my _what_?” asked Hermione, brow furrowing.

“Well, uh, this is still kind of awkward to ask — even after everything, I still feel like you won't like me mentioning them,” mumbled Harry.

Hermione just looked at him in confusion.

So Harry gathered up all his Gryffindor courage and awkwardly asked, “Are your breasts bigger? Because I don’t recall them looking like that ever before, or even this morning.”

Hermione stared at him in shock for a second at daring to talk about her breasts, before looking down and realizing he was completely correct. With the amount they were pushing out her robes, it looked like she was sporting a pair of D’s now, but she knew they had been exactly the same A's they’d always been ever since she’d developed what could even be considered breasts, that morning when she’d bounced up and down on Harry’s pole, showered, and thrown her robes on, and they felt exactly the same as they always had hanging free beneath her robes.

She looked back up at Harry in shock, before saying slowly, “They certainly didn’t feel any different this morning, and don’t feel any different now, so I don’t think so, but they sure look that way.”

Harry continued to stare at her chest as Hermione racked her brains trying come up with any explanation at all for this oddity, magical or otherwise, before a particularly beautiful one with silvery-blonde hair danced naked across her mind.

“Fleur!”

And she spun on her heels and determinedly strode off down the hallway, making Harry have to run after her.

They found Fleur outside the Beauxbatons carriage, apparently returning from a mid-morning stroll around the castle grounds.

”What are these!?” demanded Hermione without preamble as soon as they walked up to the French girl, motioning at the swells in the front of her robes curving over her tits.

“I believe zey call zose breasts, my dear,” replied Fleur, before adding, “And mighty nice looking ones, if I do say so myself.”

Hermione glared at her.

“They _look_ like they’re four sizes bigger than they really are,” she growled. “My breasts are exactly the same size they’ve always been, but look like they’re huge under my robes."

“Oops. Did I forget to mention that?” replied Fleur innocently, betrayed only by the giant smirk she wore.

As Hermione merely continued to glare at her, she dropped all pretense and said, “Zere may ‘ave been a few zings about ze spell I might ‘ave left out. For one, your breasts look substantially larger under robes zan zey really are, which in my experience iz actually quite a good zing, as you ‘ave nice, manageable breasts in private, but massive breasts zat increase your social status in public.

“For anozer, ze longer Harry iz wiz a girl, in zis case you, ‘Ermione, ze larger and longer ‘is dick will become, to better please you as you stretch out slightly from repeated sex. And speaking of which, zere might be a slightly increased sex drive for ze both of you, which I zink you might ‘ave already figured out based on ze glow you’re both wearing."

“And the fact that Harry can now walk up the girls dorm stairs, when presumably he couldn’t before?"

“I would assume zat zat iz because ‘Arry’s core bonded wiz yours, ‘Ermione, which means ‘e now ‘as part of you inside ‘im. ‘E iz part girl now, magically speaking. But zat is just a zeory, as Beauxbatons removed zose spells long ago, when it became clear girls were just going into ze boys’ dorms,” answered Fleur.

“And me waking up…um…shall we say…uh…having shifted slightly during the night?” stuttered out Hermione, blushing deeply.

“You awoke impaled on 'is cock?” supplied Fleur helpfully. “Zat is a bit of a rare side effect, and only occurs when zere is an additional pull between ze two people involved, as it can occur between non-magical power core-bonded individuals as well, but in short, yes — zat is related to ze spell, and will likely continue to 'appen any time you share a bed."

“And is there anything else we should be aware of that you conveniently forgot to mention?” asked Hermione with a pointed look.

“Not zat I can zink of,” replied Fleur cheerfully. “And if zere iz, zey are all as good as ze ones you ‘ave discovered and I ‘ave told you about.”

She paused for a second, before continuing on, “Now ‘ow about some brunch. You two look absolutely peaked!”


	5. An Unexpected Encounter

Surprisingly, Harry and Hermione never saw Ron that entire next day after Harry’s name came out of the chalice.

It was possibly the first time for either of them that they hadn’t seen the redhead at all for a day at Hogwarts since they’d first boarded the Hogwarts Express over three years earlier as wee little firsties. Where he was, they didn’t know, and cared even less. After how he’d treated Harry the night before, they could never see him again for all they cared and it’d still be too soon. Unfortunately, they knew they wouldn’t be so lucky, given the minor fact they still had three classes a day with him and lived in the same House.

They did, however, see his little sister, Ginevra Molly Weasley. Specifically, when she tried throwing herself at Harry for the first time. And by trying, I mean she literally, bodily threw herself at Harry.

Harry and Hermione were walking up to the library to find some new spells they should try learning for the tournament, when there suddenly came flying out from a hidden alcove, a mass of long, flaming-red hair, which Hermione just barely saw in time to pull Harry out of the way to prevent him from becoming a Harry pancake.

Looking down at the redhead, who lay sprawled out on the floor from where she’d splattered there, the pale white skin just below the curve of her buttocks exposed from where her robe had ridden up when she’d crashed onto the floor instead of onto Harry like she’d been aiming for, Hermione asked, “ _Ginny_? What happened? Are you okay?”

Hermione’s voice was laced with concern, but though no one there besides herself knew it, it was more for the youngest Weasley’s _mental_ wellbeing than it was for her _physical_ wellbeing. For ever since Hermione had first laid eyes on the girl, she could see ‘I’m going to be the fangirl who marries the Boy-Who-Lived, my mum promised me so’ written plainly across the younger girl's forehead. She wasn’t sure if it was really written there where everyone could see it, if it was written there in a special ink only females who were paying attention could see, or if it wasn’t actually written there at all and she could just read the girl like an open book so well that it _seemed_ physically written there to her. But it didn’t really matter, as she’d known from the day she first saw Ginny when they’d ridden the train back to London at the end of their first year, that the girl had an absurd, unrealistic, unhealthy obsession with Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived. She doubted the girl knew anything about Harry, the Boy-Who’d-Been-Abused-By-The-Dursleys-For-Ten-Years-And-Still-Was-Over-The-Summers-And-Hated-All-The-Fame-And-Infamy-And-Attention-He-Got-At-Hogwarts, but she did believe Ginny was in the top-ten most knowledgeable people in the world about the entirely fictional — though very loosely based on a few facts, such as the fact that Voldemort had indeed disappeared and lost all his power after confronting the baby Potter — Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived.

Ginny rolled over onto her back. From where Hermione stood near Ginny’s feet, as she looked up at the younger girl, she could see quite a ways up her robes, and just barely make out the female Weasley’s pink center at the end of the cloth tunnel. The top of her robes had also shifted slightly from the painful sounding contact with the stone floor, but it took a very lot to shift normal school robes enough to reveal even cleavage, let alone anything more. And while Ginny had subtly modified her school robes like a lot of the vainer girls in the castle to make it easier for the _girls_ to be revealed while still not being caught by the professors, her robes _hadn’t_ shifted enough to reveal anything inappropriate, though there would be a reasonable amount of her C cup cleavage showing if one had been standing at the redhead’s noggin looking down, but neither Hermione nor Harry was.

“Are your boobs bigger?” asked the floor-lying Weasley suddenly, surprising both of the standing fourth years.

Remembering what Fleur had said about social status, Hermione imperiously replied, “Why yes, they are. Glad you noticed. It was part of the spell to increase my magic for the tournament."

Ginny stared at her in shock for several seconds, before finally uttering, “Oh.”

After a further second, Ginny scrambled to her feet, briefly risking even greater exposure to her nether regions than before.

Once standing, she dusted off her robes, making sure to dust off her tits several times to make them visibly bounce under her robes directly in Harry’s line of sight, before saying, “Well, I guess I’ll see you guys around,” and turning and walking off, a noticeable sway to her hips.

“That was weird,” said Harry once she’d disappeared around the corner.

“Weird. Yeah,” replied Hermione, having a sneaking suspicion things were going to get a lot ‘weirder’ from Ginny, now that Harry was not only the Boy-Who-Lived, but also the Boy-Who-was-the-Fourth-Triwizard-Champion. And by ‘weirder’, she meant a whole lot more blatantly sexual and throwing-herself-at-him-ual. But only time — or a genuine seer, not Bug-Eyed Trelawney — would tell.

Finishing their stroll to the sanctum of literary works, they soon entered Hermione’s favorite place in the whole wide world, with the exception of being seated deep on Harry’s cock — that was her new favorite place. Once they’d sat down in front of a tall pile of books on useful spells, Hermione looked over at Harry and said, “While I’m perusing through these to make a list of what we should start learning, why don’t you write Sirius and tell him that you’re in the tournament. It’d be better to hear it from you, than whatever steaming pile of dragon dung the Prophy’s going to upchuck.”

So Harry pulled out a piece of parchment and a quill from his robes, and began writing.

_Sup, Dog!_

_So it might already be in the Prophet, but my name came wizzing out of the Fiery Goblet last night, meaning I have to compete in this no-longer-Tri Wizard Tournament. Guess they’ll have to start calling it the Quadwizard Tournament, except that’s not exactly true either, since Hermione’s doing it with me. So I guess it’s now the More-Wizards-Than-You-Can-Shake-A-Stick-At-,-Although-Why-You’d-Want-To-Shake-A-Stick-At-Wizards-I-Don’t-Know Tournament. But it’s all chill, as we’ve both been given a pretty sweet magical power boost, and there’s no pressure on us beyond the normal annoyance that comes from the Slythers every time something happens to me to put me back in the limelight, and simple survival, since we’re not allowed to win no matter what we do._

_But just wanted you to know hopefully before the Media and Entertainment Industrial Complex got a hold of the story and ran away with it in the opposite direction of truth, like they always do. Don’t know who did it, Dumbles and the other two Heads didn’t tell us chillins if they had any ideas, and given how Chief Snake was glaring at me slightly more vitroly than norms, he clearly thinks I entered myself, but that’s pretty much par for the overgrown Bat. But all in all, safe and sound, enjoying life. The Krum from Durmstrang, Fleur Delacour, a spicy hot Veela from Beauxbatons, and Cedric Diggory from the Huffles are the three real Champions._

_Feed Buckbeak a few rats for me,_

_Loves, your godpup — Harry_

Rereading it, and finding it sufficient, he rolled it back up to send off to their favorite mass-not-murderer, and looked over to see how Hermione was coming along. He saw that she had a long piece of parchment out that she was scribbling on, and briefly wondered if she was writing down spells she wanted them to learn for the tournament, or all the spells she wanted to learn before she died, and then quickly remembered they were one and the same with his favorite girl — every day she wanted to learn every spell ever invented before breakfast.

“Found enough spells?” he asked teasingly, causing her to look up.

“Never,” she deadpanned, before smirking, “But I think I’ve got enough to get going on with. Finished your missive?"

“Yep,” replied Harry. “Think you can spare yourself from research long enough to go send it and then maybe find a long deserted classroom in this far-too-large-for-the-current-student-population castle to practice some of the ones you’ve already found?”

“Of course,” smiled Hermione, before adding cheekily as she rolled up her parchment, “And you know what else abandoned, deserted classrooms are good for….”

Harry rolled his eyes good-naturedly, before leaning across the table and giving her a quick peck on the lips.


	6. Practice

Twenty minutes later, Harry and Hermione found themselves in an abandoned classroom off a sixth-floor corridor they couldn’t ever remember exploring before, ready to cast magic for the first time since their cores had been connected and their magical power increased.

“I think the first spell we should try to learn is _Accio_ , the Summoning Charm,” said Hermione, looking down at her list. “We’ll be learning it in class soon anyway, and it's highly useful to know even if we don’t ever need it for the tournament. Now, our magic is supposed to be noticeably more powerful by now, so I’m a bit worried we might turn the object we’re summoning into a missile headed straight for us. So let’s start with something small and soft.”

“So…something like your breasts?” smirked Harry, causing Hermione to smack him.

“ _No_ — something like this miniature puffskein I found lying on one of the library shelves.”

Hermione held up a round ball of fluff in a brilliant shade of pink that was rolling around in her hand and emitting high-pitched squeaks.

“It’s _adorable_ ,” cooed Harry, bending down to look at it closer, before quickly looking back up at Hermione and adding, “But not as adorable as you, of course.”

Hermione blushed a deep shade of red that complimented the pink of the living fluff-ball well, before snarking, “You aren’t getting me that easily. Spells first, pussy second.”

After carefully going over the spell with Harry in a much more informative and easily understandable way than their professors ever seemed to do, Hermione set the Pygmy Puff down on the floor ten feet away from them, standing out brightly against the dark stone floor, assuming that no matter how powerful their magic had become, they wouldn’t be accidentally summoning the stone with the puff and fluff.

“ _Accio extremely cute little ball of fur!_ ” said Harry, waving his wand at the object in question.

The next moment, pinkness incarnate nearly took his head off. But with well-practiced Quidditch skills, Harry had ducked and thrown a hand up, and now had a squirming, chirring Puff nestled cozily in his palm, seeming none the worse for wear for having flown through the air at mach speeds.

As he stood back up, Harry deadpanned, “I can’t tell any difference in the power of my spells, can you? I think Fleur ripped us off with that ritual.”

Hermione burst into a fit of giggles at Harry’s silliness. Anyone besides Harry who knew Hermione would have thought this very strange behavior for the bushy-haired bookworm, but Harry knew better. And he also knew that he was the only one who was privy to this side of Hermione, as she only ever let her giggly, most girly side out when she was alone with him.

It had been that way ever since first year, when she’d come to him for the first time asking if they could once a week spend an hour or so alone. Harry had of course readily agreed, and at their first secret meeting of the Harmony Club, Hermione had explained to him that while she was normally very studious and prim and proper and bottled up and holier than thou, the only way she was able to stay that way was by once a week or so, letting out all the giggly, girly stuff that built up inside her while she was being properly English. And she could only let it all out with someone she really trusted, someone who she knew wouldn’t go gossiping it around the school. She didn’t mind occasionally acting more feminine than she normally did, but the complete silliness that built up inside her wasn’t something the world was ready to be inundated with yet.

So once a week, as best they could, Harry and Hermione met for Hermione to release all the un-Hermioneness from her body, so that it wouldn’t accidentally spill out when she was around anyone else, and especially not in the middle of class. And while they still met weekly if not more often, over the years since they had first started meeting, Hermione had learned how to release small bits of silliness at a time when she had a few moments alone with Harry, such as practicing spells in an abandoned classroom like they were right now, instead of having to do it all at once like she’d had to when they’d first started.

Harry let her get all the giggles out she wanted to for the moment and sober back up, before saying seriously, “If this is how much our magic’s increased after only one day, I’m not sure I want to know what it’s going to be like by the end of the week when it’s reached it’s full strength.”

“We’re definitely going to have to work on controlling our power,” replied Hermione. “And Pygmy’s probably still the best way to do that, since she won’t hurt us when we fail, and I don’t think it’s physically possible to hurt sentient balls of fur.”

So over the rest of the afternoon, Harry and Hermione practiced controlling their magical power, and then learning new spells that might come in handy one day, tournament or otherwise.

Eventually Hermione looked at her watch and exclaimed, “Harry! Look at the time! We’re going to have to hurry down to supper before they close down for the evening!”

Rushing down to the Great Hall, they found it nearly empty, but fortunately still filled with food. And despite there still being food present, a certain Weasley who’s first name started with ‘R’ wasn’t. Which after his reaction the night before, they were thankful was the case. They’d have to see him soon enough, having all their classes with him and all, but a day off had been nice, and they were happy to enjoy it for as long as they could.

And when they made it back up to the Gryffindor common room a while later, having stopped by the library for another few hours, the redhead wasn’t anywhere to be seen lurking in the common room, either. But thinking little of this, and where he could possibly be, Harry and Hermione decided to head straight to bed, even though it was a little earlier than either of them normally did. They’d had a long day practicing magic, were still feeling a little leftover tiredness from the spell the night before, and they knew they wouldn’t exactly be going _straight_ to sleep.

Still slightly hesitant, Harry carefully walked up the girls’ stairs, but they safely reached the top, no stone slides and loud sirens activated. But as soon as Hermione opened the door and they entered the fifth-years’ dorm, Hermione realized they did still have a problem.

Sally-Anne was walking back from the bathroom, having just showered, and Lavender was getting ready for bed herself. Which in and of itself might not seem like a problem, except for a certain wizarding law — as no clothes were allowed under robes, and no one took their robes with them to shower or slept in their robes, both of these fine young ladies were stark naked.

“Hi Hermione, Harry,” came Lavender’s voice as she straightened up next to her four-poster, while at the same time, Sally-Anne cheerfully said, “Oh good, Harry’s staying here again!” And the next second, on the other side of the room, Parvati casually pulled her robes up over her head before crawling into her bed.

Staring at the naked girls just as much as Harry beside her was, even though she’d seen them a million times before, Hermione quickly pushed Harry back out onto the landing with a hissed, “ _One sec!_ ”, and slammed the door in his face.

And before any of the other girls could comment, she said, “If Harry’s going to be staying here, we have to work out the fact we all go around this dorm quite naked a substantial portion of the time.”

“What is there to work out?” asked Sally-Anne, as she crawled into her bed. “We all just go about our business like normal, Harry goes about his like he would if this was his dorm, and everything’s fine."

“But- but — naked!” stuttered Hermione, not having expected this reaction from the other girls. She’d expected them to all be rather cock-shy about having Harry around them when they were starkers, and less than thrilled to see Harry naked in return.

“So?” replied Lavender. “It’ll be pretty impossible for you not to see him naked every night if you’re sharing your bed with him, and I don’t think any of us care if the Boy-Who-Lived sees us naked, and you’ll be hard pressed to find a female of any reproductive age — and probably quite a few beyond — in the wizarding world who would be shy to see Harry in his full glory.”

“Oh.” was all Hermione could choke out.

When she’d seen them all strolling around the dorm naked a minute earlier, she expected them to kick Harry out on sight, and possibly her as well for trying to bring him into their dorm. What she _hadn’t_ expected was for them to welcome him in with open arms (and pussies, though her mind hadn’t quite made it that far, still stuck on the fact they seemingly wanted him there).

“Well, come on, let him back in,” came Sally’s voice, pulling her out of her thoughts.

Meanwhile, outside the door, Harry was being thankful that Hermione’s dorm was at the very top of the tower, so there weren’t any girls walking past him on the way to their own dorms, giving him strange looks and wondering what he was doing standing there awkwardly. He was also wondering what girl talk was going on that he wasn’t allowed to be privy to, but as he was a guy, and therefore his mind was much simpler than females’, he knew there was no way he was ever solving that puzzle, and let it drop pretty quickly.

But a second later the door opened back up, and Hermione said, “You can come in,” so he did.

Once the door was shut behind him, Lavender piped up from her bed, “Harry, just treat this like it’s your dorm, and we’ll all do the same, and everyone will be happy. Hermione here was just worried that we for some reason might not like having you in our dorm since there is a frequent amount of female nudity, especially in the mornings and evenings.”

Harry just nodded, not really knowing what to say, before Hermione quickly pulled him over to her bed, and pulled the curtains closed around them.

“Sorry about my panic there, I kind of forgot the whole bit about my roommates being naked in here when I implied that you could live in here, and wasn’t sure how they’d react,” said Hermione, before muttering mostly to herself, “Better than me, apparently.”

But then she looked back up, and yanked her robes up over her head, revealing her splendor.

As she motioned for him to do the same, she said, “You probably already know this, but the beds are all charmed not to let out any non-emergency noises. It’s designed for snoring, while letting through panicked shrieks from nightmares, but it turns out it works great for sex, too. Non-wobbling beds, noise-proof, completely opaque curtains — they’ll never know we’re doing it every night and morning, besides the fact I think they already assume we’re probably doing it.”

Four loud, powerful orgasms (each) later, and Harry and Hermione slipped back out of Hermione’s bed to take a quick shower, before returning for some much needed sleep.


	7. First Day Back

The following morning, Monday morning, when Harry and Hermione walked into the Great Hall for breakfast after three invigorating rounds when they’d woken up with Hermione impaled on his magnificent member yet again, they found four giant banners that hung unsupported in the air in much the same way bricks don’t.

They read —

_Victor Krum: Durmstrang Champion_

_Fleur Delacour: Champión de Beauxbátons_

_Cedric Diggory: Hogwarts Champion_

_Harry Potter & Hermione Granger: Entered By Dark Forces Trying To Kill Harry Under The Made Up School ‘Hagworts' & Simply Trying To Survive And Not Eligible To Win The Tournament & Grand Monetary Reward_

It was a bit cramped and wordy and loquacious and verbose on Harry and Hermione’s banner, but it clearly spelt out the situation for any interested to see.

Of course, Slytherin had no interest in seeing, and neither did Ronald Weasley. But the rest of the school had left their minds more open when they’d gotten up that morning, and as the day meandered on, many of them came by to give Harry and Hermione their support and best wishes on survival.

But the day wasn’t to be all unicorns and rainbows for the Golden Duo, as their second class that morning was Care of Magical Creatures, with the less than supportive Slytherins, led by the least supportive Malfoy, Draco.

"Ah, look, boys, it's the champion," he sneered to Crabbe and Goyle and everyone else within hearing radius, which was everyone in the class (except a few straggling Slytherins that never got in trouble despite always being late), the moment he got within earshot of Harry. "Got your autograph books? Better get a signature now, because I doubt he's going to be around much longer.... Half the Triwizard champions have died...how long d'you reckon you're going to last, Potter? Ten minutes into the first task's my bet."

There was much sycophantic guffawing from the assembly of Snakes, but it died almost immediately when Harry retorted, “At least I _have_ a reason for people to want to get my signature, which is one more than you do.”

Malfoy’s hand dove into his robes for his wand (at least _hopefully_ that’s what he was reaching for in his robes, as anything else would have been highly inappropriate to whip out at the moment), but didn’t pull it out because at that moment the towering figure of their teacher, Hagrid, came strolling around from the back of his cabin, carrying a tower of blast-ended skrewt cages.

During all of Herbology before Care class, Ron had pretended like Harry didn’t exist, instead partnering with Seamus to repot Bouncing Bulbs. But as they started walking the blast-ended skrewts in Care, he decided to take a more proactive approach.

Unfortunately for him, the fiery-bits of a blast-ended skrewt were harder to aim than a lazy, simpleton redhead might think.

His first shot nearly engulfed Hagrid’s hut in flames, like a shelly version of Norbert, while the second had the far more disastrous effect of catching Draco ‘Wait 'til my father hears about this’ Malfoy full in the face. And while all of the Gryffindors knew Ron was no longer exactly on talking terms with Harry ‘You’ll come to a sticky end just like your parents’ Potter, word of this had yet to reach the ears of the male Malfoy offspring. So while he and Ron were really batting for the same team as it came to the Fourth Champion, Malfoy immediately assumed this was the bloodtraitor’s attempt at defending the Potter scum’s honor after he, Malfoy, had made fun of the illegitimate champion at the beginning of class.

So making sure Great Oaf was distracted walking his own blasted loose screw, Malfoy pulled out his wand and muttered, “ _Skirtus Marylin Monroeous_."

Mimicking the famed photo, the lower half of Ron’s robes flew up and out, making them resemble an upside-down umbrella. But unlike in the muggle instance, Ron wasn’t expecting it, and his hands weren’t at his waist to keep his robes from flying inappropriately high. And also unlike the muggle instance, Ron wasn’t wearing any knickers.

A loud chorus of “Ew, gross!”s drew Hagrid, and the rest of the class who wasn’t already looking’s attention to the redhead, who was struggling to try to cover himself back up. Unfortunately for everyone, it was a pesky little hex, and Ron was particularly clumsy, and everyone got far longer of a view of the redhead’s small wiener flopping about wildly in the wind than any of them really wanted. But it was like an impending train wreck, that none of them could pull their attention away from even though they all really, really wanted to.

Draco couldn’t help rolling on the grass laughing at the sight, but as everyone just assumed this was because he was an evil prick, he wasn’t at risk of immediately being suspected as being the culprit. Obviously he would eventually become the prime suspect, as he _was_ an evil prick, and that kind of spell was right up his alley, but by then it would be too late to try to prove that he’d done it, so he’d get away scotch-free like always.

Unfortunately for everyone, however, the seemingly-eyeless skrewts of the blast-ended variety found the entire debacle far less captivating than all the humans, and soon decided to make their displeasure at having their walks interrupted (or maybe it was just their general displeasure at existing) well-known, by all exploding one of their ends at exactly the same time, yanking everyone who’d been stupid enough not to drop their leashes when turning to stare at Little Ron, right off their feet. All except Malfoy’s skrewt, who decided to shoot _towards_ the prick, nearly flattening him on the ground.

This giant commotion finally convinced Hagrid that perhaps walkies were done for the day, and he quickly started rounding his bugs all back up and stuffing them back in their cages. By the time the lawn was finally clear of scorpion-crabs, seven students had to be sent up to the hospital wing with a varying assortment of burns, scratches,and stings. Everyone else headed back up to the castle as well, just for an early lunch instead of healing.

~HP~

Word spread about Ron’s small, floppy ding-dong almost as fast as news about Harry of any kind normally spread.

By supper that evening, everyone in the castle seemed to have heard about it, as there were not quite whispered conversations about the incident everywhere you turned, and no one ever seemed to notice Ron’s presence walking by until _after_ he’d gotten well within hearing distance. Harry and Hermione did their part to help their ex-friend by not starting any new rumors insinuating that Ron snuck away from the Burrow at night during the summer to moonlight in Knockturn Alley as an exotic dancer, and while he was sure they meant the best by it, Harry wasn’t really sure that the twins were making matters any better for their little brother by hanging magical moving hand-drawn pictures of swinging dicks on every noticeboard in the castle.

But while Ron’s face kept up a steady mimicking of his hair for the next several day, things were even worse for his little sister, Ginny. Girls kept coming up to her saying how sorry they were that she had a brother with such a useless cock, while the Slytherin guys kept yelling down the halls or across the courtyard or Great Hall things like, “Oh look, it’s the girl who’s brother has the world’s smallest penis,” and “Hey look, it’s small dick boy’s sister!”, or otherwise teasing her about her brother’s minuscule member.

Which on the whole was rather a plus for Harry and Hermione, as between the youngest two Weasleys, the Slytherins were too distracted to throw as many vicious barbs at the Fourth Champions as they normally would have. So between one of the seemingly obvious downsides of the wizarding world’s clothing laws, and the rest of the castle understanding Harry and Hermione’s tournament plight, things went rather well for the two Fourth Champions over the next few weeks.

Right before their second Potions class, Malfoy _had_ tried to stir up trouble by introducing his new line of "SUPPORT CEDRIC DIGGORY — THE REAL HOGWARTS CHAMPION!/POTTER STINKS!” badges, but the launch went slightly awry when Hermione whipped out her wand and cast a widespread permanent sticking charm on all the badges that the Slytherins were already wearing, before immediately following it by a second charm that changed the words to “SUPPORT HARRY — THE REAL QUEEN’S BEE'S KNEE’S SNEEZE!/MALFOY IS A POOPYHEAD!” And by the time Snape opened the dungeon door a second later, her wand was back in her robes, and she was casually leaning against the stone wall, a completely neutral expression gracing her features.

Needless to say, Draco didn’t try selling any more of his badges after class, as he knew they would be gobbled up by everyone from all three other houses, and he really didn’t want this minor debacle getting out. In fact, as soon as the bell rung signifying the end of Potions for the day, for the first time in Hogwarts history since Snape had started ‘teaching’, the Slytherins were the ones first out the dungeon door, sprinting back to their dorms to yank off their robes with the permanently stuck badges on them, and throw on new robes that didn’t support Harry and demean their beautiful and brave leader, Draco Malfoy. Word did of course still spread like wildfire through the castle at supper that night, but as there were no remaining badges to be laughed at, it didn’t create the largest ruckus ever.


	8. Rita Skeeter

Harry and Hermione, however, unfortunately missed the Great Slytherin Exodus of Year Four, as barely five minutes into the Potions lesson, a heavy-jawed witch in bright magenta robes, with hair set in elaborate and curiously rigid curls, and jeweled spectacles set lightly upon her nose, clutching a crocodile-skinned handbag with two-inch long scarlet-taloned nails burst in, insisting the two Champions were needed upstairs, and pulled Harry out of the room by his upper arm before Snape had time to say a word.

Hermione quickly gathered her and Harry’s possessions, and rushed out after them, catching up with them halfway up the stairs than led from the dungeons to the Entrance Hall. But instead of leading them into a classroom like Hermione expected the older woman to, she pulled Harry into the broom closet off the Entrance Hall that Harry and Hermione had briefly hid in at the end of third year while traveling through time.

“Ah, yes, this is nice and cozy,” said the witch as soon as she’d slammed the door shut behind them. “Now! The silly wand weighing ceremony is supposed to be in a little under thirty minutes — I mean, you couldn’t be doing your schoolwork if you didn’t have a functioning wand, now could you? — but I thought this might be a good opportunity to interview the youngest Champions, to add a bit of color to the Daily Prophet story. Oh, and by the way, while I’m sure you already easily recognize me, I am in fact Rita Skeeter, the forty-three year-old inquisitive freelance reporter who's savage quill has punctured many an inflated reputation.”

She gave them a curtsey with much flourish, pulling the hem of her already shorter than normal robes up higher than strictly necessary, revealing creamy white thighs.

But as she opened her mouth again, Hermione beat her to the punch.

“What will it take to get reasonable stories about us, and especially Harry, this year? I know who you are, of course, and I know you write fantastical stories you can sell to the Daily Prophet, irregardless of how factually inaccurate or wildly libelous they may be. And if someone gets on your bad side, you’ll stop at nothing to bring them crashing down like the Roman Empire. But I also know that it’s possible to buy your good side, so what’s your price?”

Rita looked at Hermione shrewdly for several seconds, before replying slowly, “Well, Harry _is_ quite the story, especially as a seemingly illegal entrant into this highly coveted, sacred tournament, so the price will be quite high for me to promise to keep you both in a positive light for an entire year.”

“You know perfectly well we can’t promise juicy stories for the entire year, as we have no idea what will or won't happen,” snapped Hermione.

“Then that does make the initial payment that much more important,” replied Rita.

“We can offer you a former friend who’s promised to rain down hellfire and brimstone on me,” interjected Harry. “And though I’m not sure he’s competent enough to even rain down mild discomfort, and probably doesn’t have the attention span to even get around to trying that, we do have an unrelated story about him that can be widely collaborated by the rest of the castle, that’s as embarrassing as all hell for a well-known family."

“Well now, that _does_ sound juicy,” said Rita. “And hellfire and brimstone is certainly worth getting the inside track on should it pan out. But it sounds like you’ve still only got one story to offer me at the moment, with no promise of more.”

“We have a whopper to offer you straight up, the high likelyhood of at least one more good story out of it and possibly a lot, best friendship with the top mischief makers of the castle, and a promise to come to you with any juicy tidbits we get our hands on throughout the year that don’t portray us or our friends in a negative light. So what non-story-related incentives do you need to throw on top of that to make a deal?” counter-offered Hermione.

“You’ll have yourself a deal if you both pull your robes off right now and Harry plows me over these boxes,” replied Rita, sticking out her hand.

Hermione immediately reached out and shook it. “Deal.”

Harry stared at Hermione in shock, as Hermione quickly pulled her robes up over her head and Rita bent over a stack of boxes and flipped her robes up over her hips, revealing her glistening pink nether lips.

“Well, come on, Harry,” said Hermione after a second as Harry just stood there staring at them.

Shaking himself out of the craziness that was the situation, Harry pulled his robes up over his head, revealing his chunk of meat. It was only at half-mast at the moment, but a few seconds of rubbing it against the reporter’s dripping pussy fixed that real quick.

Just as he was about to push in, Hermione sneered, “No need to be gently, Harry — she never included that in the deal requirements. Ram it home and see if you can’t split this whore right in half.”

Rita practically moaned at this, before letting out a scream of intense pleasure a split second later as Harry reared back and drove his entire massive cock fully into her sopping cunt. Harry immediately pulled almost all the way back out, before plunging back in, setting an absolutely brutal pace that had the reputation-puncturer loudly and lewdly moaning underneath him as she was repeatedly punctured herself. A few seconds later, he saw Hermione set herself up directly in front of Rita, her core open and dripping to Harry’s sight. For a second, Harry thought she was going to finger herself to the sight of him plowing Rita from behind, before Rita’s head suddenly blocked his view of Hermione’s pussy, and he realized with a shock that Hermione was making their reporter slut eat her out as she was being fucked in the pussy from behind by him.

It wasn’t very many squelching minutes later when their moans reached a previously unheard fervor, and at the sight and sound of Hermione coming undone under Rita’s lips, Harry poured himself into the reporter, sparking Rita’s release as well. A few minutes of heavy breathing later, as they all finally came back down to earth, Rita straightened her glasses out and said, “If I’d known it was going to be _that_ good, I might have let you two get by without _any_ stories.”

~HP~

Twenty minutes and a highly personal and revealing story about Ron and his flying robes later, and the three of them entered the classroom where the other three champions, the five judges, and the wand expert were gathered.

Ancient Old Ollivander lustfully fondled their five wands for a while, before Rita and her cameraman insisted on taking enough photos to fill five overflowing Daily Prophet issues to the brim. In almost all the photos, Harry found himself squished between Fleur and Hermione, which wasn’t an altogether unpleasant place to find oneself, and would hopefully serve to draw attention away from him in whichever one of the ten thousand photos made it into the next morning’s Daily Prophet.

Hermione had a sneaking suspicion that the other nine thousand, nine hundred, ninety-nine point nine nine photos would all be going up on Skeeter’s personal ‘I Got Fucked By The Boy-Who-Lived’ Wall in her Perthshire cottage, but as long as they didn’t end up in the public’s hands, or in any fangirl like Ginny’s hands, she didn’t really care. And while the fiction writer might have had less than zero journalistic integrity, she _was_ known for holding up her end of a bargain, so Hermione was confident she wouldn’t be letting any of those extra photos ever see the light of day after striking their deal.

But finally, after a pointless wand inspection that involved zero actual scales for weighing and far too many photos, the champions were permitted to leave for supper, and the zeroth task of the Tri-Quad-PentaWizard Tournament was over.

The next fortnight passed as well as any two consecutive weeks at Hogwarts ever could for Harry and Hermione. The unknown first task was looming in deadly proximity, but as they had no clue what it was, and were steadily working their way through the library of spells, there was no use or point in worrying or stressing about the Tournament until they actually had something specific _to_ worry about, which given Señor Crouchy’s subtle hint to definitely _not_ check out the edge of the Forbidden Forest a few days before the twenty-fourth of November, wouldn’t be until then.

But while things were going quite well for our intrepid, fearless duo, life became even worse for Ron within the confines of the castle, for Rita Skeeter had published her piece about the Triwizard Tournament, which had turned out to be not so much a report on the tournament, as a graphic description, complete with crudely drawn and highly inaccurate sketches (plural), of what had taken place in that fateful Care of Magical Creatures class everyone had just started forgetting about.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> With this and the next chapter both being short, and me being oh so gracious and magnanimous, I’ll be releasing chapters both Thursday and Friday this week. You are all definitely so very welcome. 


	9. Dragons

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter, sorry my peeps, but up next is the First Task, which needs its own chapter. (And I’m releasing this on Thursday, so what are you complaining about anyway?)

The Friday night before the First Task, Fleur sent swallows (English, not African, and not bearing any coconuts, unfortunately) to each of the other three/four champions, asking if they’d like to take a pleasure stroll...at night…around the dark creature-infested Forbidden Forest.

So Harry and Hermione hurried down to the Beauxbatons Carriage, where they found Fleur and Krum waiting for them, with Cedric hurrying up from behind them a few seconds later. They strolled off in the direction of the Forbidden Forest, chatting with each other about their respective days, and what they thought the First Task might be that it needed hidden in the Forbidden Forest of all places.

But eventually, Hermione had to ask. “Fleur, why invite us all here? I know you said everyone should help Harry and I, and Señor Crouchy told us all to look here in the days leading up to the First Task, but why did you invite your actual competitors, the estimable Krum and the esteemed Cedric, instead of letting them come down here on their own? That seems a bit counterintuitive to the goal of crushing them into the ground like the losers they are.”

“Well, like you said, my fabulous compatriots and dear friends will find out anyway if zey were paying any attention at all to Señor Crouchy on ze fateful day all our names came whizzing outst ze Inferno,” answered Fleur. “But more importantly, despite what our ‘eadmasters actually believe and act like, and not what zey merely say in flowery locution, zis tournament really iz all about magical cooperations. And whatever ze task turns out to be, it will undoubtedly still be a challenge to complete, and we will still see ‘o is ze best wizard ‘ere, even if we all find out what ze task iz togezzer. _Comprènde?_ ”

“You are far kinder than any of us deserve,” replied Hermione in awe of the French girl. Not many people would have taken the true purpose of this tournament — not fame or fortune or smashing competitors heads on the floor, but international friendship — to heart like she had.

Twenty minutes of hiking and yakking later, and they finally rounded a bend that revealed to them something worth their time wandering through the dark in the middle of the night — Dragons!

Giant, ferocious, fanged, vicious-looking, writhing, stomping, rearing onto their hind legs and gouging long marks into the ground with their spiked tails, snapping, snarling, roaring, snorting, howling, and shooting mushroom-shaped torrents of fire into the dark sky — these dragons were none of those. Instead, they were sleeping peacefully in their cages, like large, scaly, lizard-looking teddy bears with leathery wings and long fangs — so really nothing like teddy bears at all.

Whoever had transported these fantastic beasts from wherever one finds them to the Off Limits Pile of Trees at Hogwarts had apparently whacked them all over the head and knocked them out stone cold in order to avoid having to deal with any of their normal personalities while transporting them there. So at the moment, they were quite as harmless as sleeping kittens — which admittedly isn’t exactly harmless, the precious little adorable homicidal fur balls — but certainly less dangerous than upset, fully awake mother dragons can be should they so choose. Dragons are a moody bunch, after all.

“Four dragons. Four Champions,” grunted Krum, being the first to speak since they’d spotted the overgrown winged lizards.

“One for each of us. But what do we have to do with them?” picked up Cedric.

“Well, I seriously doubt we ‘ave to teach zem to dance,” snarked Fleur airily.

“That’d definitely be a challenge,” replied Harry.

“They all seem to have eggs,” said Hermione, who was the only one to have actually gone over to one of the cages and looked in, instead of just standing around speculating. “Seems odd to have risked bringing those along, and possibly damaging them, if they weren’t important somehow, don’tcha think?”

“Seems a reasonable conclusion,” replied Krum. “But what exactly are we supposed to do with them? Steal an egg from a mother dragon who doesn’t know where she is, but that it is certainly not her home? That’s not a task, that’s suicide. I mean, there are not words to describe how mindbogglingly idiotic that is. Not to mention just plain stupid.”

Unbeknownst to any of them at the moment, that was exactly what they were going to have to do.

The five champions stood around chatting for a while longer about the dragons, and throwing out more ideas of what they might have to do, from relatively tame, like tickling a sleeping dragon, which everyone knows you should never do, to widely insane, like painting their nails neon pink with neon green polka dots and then flying them all the way around the world without ever landing. But while all fun and games, it didn’t give them any actual answers, and they eventually decided it was time to head back to bed, before Snape caught them out of bounds in the middle of the night and sent them all to Azkaban.

~HP~

The following morning was a Hogsmeade weekend, so Harry and Hermione joined the rest of the third year and above throng looking to escape the confines of the castle for a day.

Making their way around all their normal haunts, they eventually ended up in the Three Broomsticks, where Harry got them both a couple butterbeers from Rosmerta, and found a table in the corner to lurk in. After a while, Hagrid came stomping in with Mad-Eye, and who upon spotting the Fourth Champions, pushed their way across the pub to say hi, knocking several people over in the process (well, Hagrid did anyway — as soon as anyone saw the ex-Auror coming their way, they cleared well out of his path in a hurry).

Reaching them, Hagrid leaned over and whispered conspiratorially, “Meet me tonight at midnight at me cabin. And wear your cloak. Got summat ter show yeh."

“Yeah. Dragons. Light-years ahead of ya, Shaggy,” replied Harry friendlily. “Now if you could tell us what exactly we have to do _with_ the dragons, that would be helpful.”

Hagrid stared at the pair of them in shock, clearly stunned that anyone would ever even consider disobeying the direct order, clearly said as a hint, that Señor Crouchy had given them, on their own without having _him_ , Hagrid, tell them to come do it with him with their invisibility cloak.

But before Hagrid could express that in far clearer language than I just did, Mad-Eye quickly said, “Good for you two. And sorry, can’t tell you any more, since you’ll just go tell the three Champions, and even _with_ cheating being a traditional part of the tournament, we can’t go that far. We have to at least pretend like we’re following some of the rules we’re just making up as we go along.”

“We still have to actually _do_ the task, even if we already know what it is, you know,” said Harry reproachfully, before adding, “But we understand.”

They spent another fifteen minutes or so chatting up the auror and half-giant, before finally parting ways and moseying back on up to the castle, just in time for supper.


	10. First Task

Tuesday, November the Twenty-Fourth finally rolled around, and with it the First Task of the Tri(Quad-Penta-)Wizard Tournament.

Harry and Hermione had woken up together like every morning since Harry’s name had come out of the magical drinking vessel a little over three weeks earlier, with Hermione’s vagina suffocating Harry’s ready and willing penis. And like every morning since that fateful evening, as soon as they were awake, they started going at it hard and loud.

By this point, there was no doubt that the other four girls in Hermione’s dorm knew they were having sexual intercourse, as many times they’d seen the pair exiting Hermione’s quad-poster still slightly out of breath, with Harry’s cock softening but clearly recently hard, and their mixed cum dribbling down Hermione’s legs as they headed off to the showers. That, and the minor fact the champions had done it several times in the showers when Hermione either thought there wasn’t anyone else in there or was too hot and horny to notice, just to look out across the open bathroom as they came down from their highs to find some of their dormmates leaning up against the bathroom walls watching Harry and Hermione as they finished up showering, smirking at them, and cheering loudly and catcalling.

The first two rounds this particular morning Hermione rode him cowgirl style, which was both of their favorite position by far, as it gave Hermione more control and Harry the best view imaginable. But deciding to switch it up on their third go-round, Harry flipped Hermione over onto her back, and pounded her into the mattress with all the breathtaking (quite literally, in this case) strength he had, finding spots inside her that he could only hit when they did it like that, pulling a wide variety of noises out of her as they flew towards their peak, before finally crashing over the edge in harmony.

Coming back to themselves, Harry pulled his thick cock out of her tight hole, leaving her cunt feeling sad and lonely and empty.

His overflow of cum felt nice pulsing out of her snatch onto her thighs as her walls still occasionally fluttered from the aftershocks of her powerful orgasm, but the warmth of his seed squelching inside her just wasn’t the same as having his pole firmly planted in there marking her as his own, deliciously stretching her to her absolute limit.

She knew she could transfigure a highly accurate replica of his magnificent member to leave inside her all the time, but it just wasn’t the same, and she knew she would miss that initial feeling that there was no way in Heaven or hell that all of his monster could possibly fit inside her tiny little pussy when he first started pushing inside her at the beginning of each bout. The pop when his bulbous head finally squeezed past her lips, and the nearly orgasm-inducing, never-ending stretch as he took his time making one slow, continuous push into her body until he was finally bottoming out, his tip flattening against her cervix as his balls pushed up against her arse. And then the split-second feeling of hollowness as he pulled almost entirely back out of her, leaving only the head still nestled inside her, before the slam back into her that always made her yelp in surprise, no matter how many times he did it — she was dripping again just thinking about it, and there was absolutely no stimulation on her body at the moment.

It was true that she never experienced this pleasure first thing in the morning, as she always woke up already fully filled, but she could still almost feel it just thinking about it, and this way, she had the best of both worlds. Waking up feeling stuffed to the brim, and then in the afternoons and at night, getting to feel him claim her pussy all over again with his heavenly stretch. It was a bliss she couldn’t put into words.

And a bliss she really wished she could have been feeling while trying to stay awake during History of Magic that morning, the only class even she had trouble staying awake during, and no one else even bothered trying. But eventually it, and their other morning class was over, and she and Harry were sitting down for lunch in the Great Hall, knowing nothing but this meal now stood between them and a giant, fire-breathing dragon who probably wasn’t going to be on their side for whatever the task that lay before them was.

After a while, Fleur walked over to them, and the three of them, after picking Cedric and Krum up from the Hufflepuff and Slytherin tables respectively, walked down to the erect tent in front of the dragon enclosure. The Slytherins had of course thrown lots of jeers and insults Harry and Hermione’s way, either not heard or completely ignored by all the professors at the head table, but Harry and Hermione did what the twins had suggested they do when they’d first sat down for lunch: just smile and wave, boys…smile and wave.

Down at the tent, the five of them sashayed in, where they found Ludicrous Bagyman waiting for them. He briefly explained their mission, should they choose it or not, and outside the thin walls of the temporary domicile they could hear hundreds, if not trillions of feet, and thousands of toes trodding past on their way to the stands to spectate. Miniature dragons soon selected and starting order determined, all that was left to do was wait. And after a long period of such, Harry and Hermione’s turn finally arrived at last, and they walked out of the tent and around to the entrance, entering the arena with a curtsy.

Across the enclosure crouched their cantankerous Horntail, glaring daggers at them with her yellow eyes, and thrashing her spiked tail about haphazardly.

Putting their heads together, Hermione asked, “Troll this motherloving dragon?”

Harry nodded.

Pointing her wand at the thick cuffs that held the beast to the earth, Hermione yawned “ _Relashio_ ,” causing them to break open and go flying halfway across the enclosure with loud bangs.

But before they could perform the coup de grâce, out of nowhere came flying in Ronald the Redhead on a raggedy ol’ school broom, zooming around the dragon a few times before landing inside the enclosure, ten feet beyond where the dragon could shoot fire to from where it was chained up, before hopping off his broom and jumping up and down and waving his arms about wildly, shouting at the dragon, “Don’t pay any attention to those two cheaters! They aren’t worth anything! I’m Gryffindor’s real knight in shining armor! I’m the one you should worry about stealing your stupid Easter eggs!”

Rolling its eyes at this human paragon of stupidity, the dragon slowly and deliberately stepped towards the redhead, past the invisible line Ron thought it couldn’t cross. When he suddenly realized his carefully thought out and one hundred percent foolproof (as in, 100% proof he was a fool) plan to ruin Harry’s day was about to go very not well, he took off sprinting like a bilious weasel towards the entrance Harry and Hermione had just come in through. But before he could get out of the reach of the dragon’s foul halitosis, the winged not-a-lizard sent out a directed burst of flame at the hem of the intruder’s robes, setting them ablaze with fire.

One oft unknown thing about dragons is that most species have two different types of flames they can spit. The first is the normal dragon fire that turns everything in its path into a crisp and can’t melt mountains of gold into a lake of gold in mere seconds — it is highly recommended _not_ to get the hem of one’s robes caught with this type of fire. The second, however, dragons only evolved after the wizarding world decided to stop wearing clothing under their robes, and purely existed to embarrass the idiotic wizard who posed more of an annoyance to the dragon than an actual threat. This second type of fire only burned robes, not skin, and was the type that the Horntail shot at the fleeing weasel now.

Before Ron had managed to sprint fifteen feet with burning robes, the thin black material formerly covering him had completely burnt up and disappeared into ashes, leaving behind an entirely naked redhead sprinting across the enclosure in front of the entire school. And for the second time that month, Ron’s diminutive private parts were clearly visible — for the entire school and visitors to view, this time.

He finally made it to the entrance of the enclosure, where he thought he’d finally be able to get some privacy and make it back up to the castle to get some new robes, when he quite literally ran into Professor McG, his Head of House. He bounced off of her, landing splat on his butt, the stern woman staring down at him and his not-so-private-anymore parts. It wasn’t the first time she’d ever seen them — both from the yearly early term meetings between each student and the Head of their House and the Matron to make sure they were still obeying the wizarding law and everything was operating as it should be, and from the random times he’d been the one she’d held back at the end of class to spot check that he was still obeying the law — but that certainly didn’t make this any less embarrassing for Ron for taking place in full view of the entire castle this time. Ron awkwardly stood back up, still hoping he’d be able to escape up to the castle, but McG grabbed his barely there prick and drug him away towards the stands by it, curtly nodding towards Harry and Hermione that they should finish their appointed task.

Meanwhile, the dragon had slunk back over to her nest, awaiting the champions’ next move — or first move, really, since they hadn’t yet had time to do anything before being so rudely interrupted.

Harry and Hermione turned back towards said dragon, and raising their wands in synchronous unity, shouted harmoniously, “ _Wingardium Leviosa!_ "

Much to its, and the crowd’s, surprise, a second later the dragon found itself flying under not its own power, and being drifted up over the now cowering crowds, and out of the enclosure entirely. As the dragon dropped back to the ground with an earth-shattering thud a dozen feet or so behind the stands, shaking the entire stands to their very (rather wobbly) foundations, Harry strolled over to the nest and picked up the golden egg from the very center, before he and Hermione skipped hand in hand out of the enclosure, over to where Professor McG, Mad-Eye, and Hagrid stood waiting for them by Madam P’s first aid tent, McG now holding tightly to Ron’s ear, and Ron still standing there starkers, his wiener hanging limply between his legs.

Making sure to stay well on the other side of the adults from their less clothed ex-friend, Harry and Hermione listened to Señor Crouchy as he explained to the entire crowd that the judges were purposefully giving the fourth Champions zero points for the first two tasks since they weren’t eligible to win the tournament, but having a score of zero was still necessary for the final task. Then the five judges each raised their wands in the air, where five silvery ribbons slipped out and writhed in the air for a second before spelling out five big ol’ goose eggs.

Once the scores were out in the open, Professor McG amplified her voice and stepped forward, bringing Ron once again into center view.

“For attempting to disrupt the tournament, along with public nudity, Mister Ronald B Weasley will be given two straight weeks of detention every night, I will be writing a lengthy letter to his mother explaining in graphic detail _with_ drawings what occurred here, and he will lose a thousand house points for his actions this afternoon.” At the sudden gasp of outrage by the majority of the crowd, she quickly continued on, “But fear not, as since his actions were his and his alone and not anyone else’s, and therefore should not reflect on the rest of Gryffindor House, I am awarding Mister Potter and Miss Granger five hundred points each for extraordinary performances in the task today.”

Three-fourths of the crowd burst out in an overwhelming wave of screaming and applauding, as Professor McG stepped back and frog-marched Ron back up to the castle to report him to Filch, and then to send him to finally put some new robes on and cover his indecency he was still flaunting about. At the same time, Ludicrous Bagyman pulled the five entrants in the Triwizard tournament back into the tent, to let them know when the next task would be, and that their eggs were important for not failing miserably and looking like total nincompoops in the second task. Then he bid them all adieu, and hurried off to join the rest of the judges for some well-earned hard liquor after their stressful afternoon of watching other people risk their lives.

But before Harry and Hermione could exit the tent and head up to the Great Hall with the rest of the crowds for supper, Fleur pulled them to the side.

“I see the power spell adhered quite nicely, and you two have been building it up this whole time, if you know what I mean,” she whispered sultrily, winking lewdly at them. “Because it takes a massive amount of magical power to lift a fully grown, slightly on the pudgy side dragon, and you did it like it was a feather from first year. But what I really wanted to say was, meet me outside the Beauxbatons Carriage at nine tonight.”

She bit her lip sexily, before turning and sauntering out of the tent, hips swaying tantalizingly in her wake. Harry and Hermione just looked at each other and shrugged, clueless as to what the Veela might have planned next.


	11. Fleur's Room

The rest of the afternoon was spent partying in the Gryffindor common room, until finally at fifteen minutes until nine hours after noon, Harry and Hermione excused themselves and headed down to meet Fleur.

She was standing outside her carriage waiting for them, and as soon as they walked up to her, she pulled them inside. The interior of the carriage was exquisitely decorated, very French in styling, and far larger on the inside than the outside. Leading them down several posh hallways, she finally pushed open a door into a spacious bedroom, closing and locking it behind them once they’d all entered.

“Nice room,” commented Hermione as she took it all in.

“Yes, well, Madam Maxime wanted to make sure all ‘er possible champions ‘ad nice places to stay, and, you know, magic,” replied Fleur, before pointing to a comfy-looking armchair and saying, “Robes off and sit.”

Raising an eyebrow at the French girl, Hermione did as she was told, pulling her robes up over her head, and sitting down in the chair. Even though it was just the three of them in the room, and Harry saw her naked all the time, Fleur had already seen her naked and vice versa once, and she’d voluntarily stripped in front of Rita, it still felt a little awkward to be the only naked person in the room, but she trusted that Fleur had a plan that would make it all worthwhile in the end. But she did keep her legs closed, not yet wanting to expose herself too much until she had a better idea of what was going on.

Once Hermione was seated, Fleur turned towards Harry and said, “ ‘Arry, you need to show your appreciation to ‘Ermione for 'er stellar _Relashio_ charm zis afternoon, for being willing to 'elp you at all in zis tournament, and for teaching you all ze spells I know you two 'ave been practicing ever since your name came out of ze Chalice.”

“Why do I have this suspicion you mean something a little less common than the ’Thank you’ I told her and hug I gave her immediately after the first task was over?” replied Harry with a wry smile.

Fleur just smiled back sweetly and said, “Come now, ‘Arry, zat is no proper way to thank your lady for all she ‘as done for you. Now, on your knees in front of your lady’s fine legs.”

As Harry obediently knelt down, Hermione finally understood where Fleur was going with all this. So at a look from the older girl, she slowly opened her legs wide and scooted her bum to the front edge of the seat, leaning back fully against the cushions, presenting her dripping snatch to her best friend.

While she and Harry had had more rounds of sex over the past three weeks than she could even begin to count (though if she had to make an estimate, twenty-three days at an average of at least ten rounds a day, add the first night and that morning, plus the extra rounds they’d snuck in besides morning, afternoon, and night, and she would say they had to be over two hundred and fifty rounds by now), it had all been penetrative vaginal intercourse. With Harry’s nearly nonexistent refractory period and mandatory synchronous orgasming, there hadn’t been any reason to branch out into Harry eating her out, though she had been wondering if parseltongue skills could come into play in oral dalliances. Looked like she was about to find out.

Harry started shuffling forward between her legs, clearly understanding the objective here as well, but before he could reach his destination, Fleur pulled out her wand and said, “ _Incarcerous_.” Harry’s hands flew behind his back, where ropes out of thin air bound them tightly together.

“ _Now_ you can please your mistress,” smirked Fleur, looking down at the pair.

Harry quickly shuffled the last few inches on his knees before diving into Hermione’s snatch like it was a spring and he hadn’t had water in weeks. As Hermione let out a long string of moans, she no longer had any doubts that parseltongueness was God’s gift to oral sex. Rita had been good, it clearly not having been the reporter's first time to have her head buried between another woman’s legs, but this was pure Heaven. It lacked the filling sensation of Harry’s magnificent cock, but it was still going to send her over the edge in almost no time at all.

And then Harry plunged three long fingers straight into her core as his tongue hissed against her engorged clit, and she came with a loud cry that undoubtedly would have been heard halfway across the country had Fleur’s room not been magically soundproofed the same as all the Hogwarts beds were.

When she came back to herself, she found Harry’s fingers still pumping slowly in and out of her, as he lapped up all her juices from around them. Apparently while she’d been distracted by the feelings of Harry’s tongue dancing the salsa across her clitoris, Fleur had loosed one of his hands so he could fill her aching pussy with his exquisitely long fingers.

“Hand behind your back again,” chirped Fleur far too cheerily from over on the bed.

As Harry’s put his free hand back behind his back again and the ropes rebound it with the other, Hermione looked over to see Fleur sitting completely naked on the edge of her bed, her own fingers buried deep in her own snatch watching the whole scene with a smug grin on her face.

“Tongue in her pussy this time,” the French babe continued on, as her fingers began ferociously abusing her cunt.

But Hermione had little time to think about Fleur pumping her pussy like she was trying to milk it, as Harry’s tongue dove far deeper into her core than she would have thought possible, and started parseltonguing around. The insane vibrations soon found her g-spot, and maybe even a second one she hadn’t known existed before, and she writhed in the chair, hand coming up to grip tightly in Harry’s unruly black hair, feeling like she was about to explode.

She vaguely heard Fleur encouraging graphically from the bed, “That’s right! Bury his face in your cunt, girl! Make his face as wet as your pussy is. Make him your bitch!”, before fireworks exploded, and she knew no more for a while except molten pleasure flooding through her entire body.

When she came back to earth this time, she found Harry’s head still buried in her snatch but not moving against her at all (which she was thankful for at the moment, as she was far too hypersensitive to take any more stimulation for at least a few minutes), and Fleur standing by Harry’s rear. She had flipped the bottom of Harry’s robes up over his hips, so his butt was now on complete display, making Hermione briefly wonder if she was planning on spanking him. A dribble of juices seeped out of her at the thought, before she saw what Fleur was holding, and her pussy gushed.

Harry had apparently been told not to move, as all he did was gently lap up her new juices, otherwise remaining perfectly still.

Seeing that Hermione was back to herself, and fully capable of appreciating what was about to come next, Fleur said, “I have special treat for both of you, that will take a little time to work up to. Hermione, you have clearly been enjoying Harry’s work of art stretching you out so perfectly, so it’s only appropriate that Harry eventually get to enjoy that feeling of pure bliss as well. And also, I know it’s every witch’s dream to get to pound their wizard like they get pounded every day.

“But at the moment, Harry’s virgin hole is in no condition to take his own hunk of meat, as unlike vaginas, that entrance doesn’t stretch so readily. So before you can ream Harry with a magical copy of his own pride and joy, we’ll need to slowly prepare it to be invaded.”

Fleur knelt down behind Harry, before leaning completely down over his back, full breasts pressing into him. As her tongue flicked out and brushed across his earlobe, she whispered huskily, “Move your hungry face back just a little bit, slut.”

Once there was room, Fleur slid the silver butt plug back and forth over Hermione’s glistening lips, before finally pushing it inside. It was quite small, barely even noticeable by Hermione after coming twice and having had three of Harry’s fingers deep inside her not long before, but she knew it would be noticeable in Harry’s pristine arse.

Popping it back out, Fleur sat back on her knees, and grinned at Harry’s soon to be violated rosebud.

“Harry, back to work on your lady’s slit,” she said, before continuing on as Harry’s face buried itself between Hermione’s legs again, “This is charmed with ' _Immaculate Rectum_ ’, both to keep itself clean at all times so you don’t have to worry when you relubricate it with your juices, and so that his hole will be clean whenever you get to the point where you can begin prodding him with small dildos.”

Hermione watched from under hooded eyes as Fleur slowly wiggled the metallic object into Harry’s butt, until it finally popped in with a satisfactorily squelching plop, and Harry let out a nearly orgasmic feminine moan of his own into her pussy, that shot straight through Hermione’s core and sent her careening over the edge for the third time that evening.

As she recovered, Fleur stood Harry up and unbound his arms long enough for him to take off his robes and lay prone on the bed, before binding them up again. Then she spread his legs and bound them to each corner of the bed, spreading him apart for Hermione’s inspection. Hermione finally stood on slightly wobbly legs and walked over to stand next to Fleur, and see the toy fully seated in Harry for the first time. The sliver shown out brightly from between Harry’s butt cheeks, and she couldn’t help but reach out and touch it, wiggling it slightly, eliciting further girlish moans from her partner.

As Hermione inspected the goods, Fleur began giving them their instructions.

“This toy will increase in size ever so slightly every night, until is satisfactorily big enough by the end of June to accept his own brilliant penis — or a replica thereof. And it should be big enough to take it’s first strap-on dildo the evening after the second task, which we will do in here again, and I’ll tell you more about the magical strap-ons then as well.

“But in the meantime, Harry will wear this plug all the time, except when he needs to lay some pipe. At which point, Hermione, you will pull it out for him, Harry will go take care of backing one out, and then he will return to you, where you will relubricate it with your juices, and squeeze it back inside him. Additionally, it should be wriggled in and out a few times at least once, if not twice a day, to aid in the stretching process. The best idea is probably to put him doggy style immediately after you have sex, when his body will be at its most relaxed, and pull it in and out three or four times. If you want to orgasm him with the butt plug, or do it after every set of sex instead of just once a day, that is of course your prerogative — feel free to make as much of a butt slut out of Harry as you like.”


	12. The Daily Prophet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter, sorry, but Friday’s chapter is extra long, I promise. It just all needs to be in a single chapter, so this is what it is. Also this is the shortest chapter in the story, so there’s always that — it can only get longer from here.

The morning after the First Task, Rita’s Daily Prophet article about it was published.

Or actually, two articles were published, both covering the front page with giant, moving pictures. The one on the bottom half of the page was a picture of Harry and Hermione floating their dragon out of the arena, and included a well-written, in-depth description of all four Champions’ dealings with their dragons.

But the picture on the top half of the page was of Ron streaking across the dragon enclosure, and that article was just as detailed, if not more so, than the one about the Champions. And it was this image and writeup that greeted Mrs Weasley when she opened the paper that Wednesday morning.

It was also the image and story that greeted everyone in the Great Hall who took delivery of the DP every morning. Everyone had already been there and seen it live and in person, but that didn’t make the magical photograph of the redhead streaking starkers across the dragon pen any less amusing, and the paper was quickly passed around like it was the latest issue of the yearly sportswitch calendar.

A few people also read the article below that one about the First Task, which included the scores of all the Champions except Harry and Hermione, who it simply briefly mentioned weren’t eligible for winning as they had magical help and hadn’t entered themselves to begin with. However, this did nothing to stop Malfoy from trying to get everyone to make fun of Harmony for receiving the official score of a big fat goose egg.

“Oh look, it’s the complete losers, who scored a whopping zero yesterday!” he shouted out to the whole Hall as he walked in, pointing at where Harry and Hermione were casually eating breakfast, basking in the glory of people from all Houses (except Slytherin, of course) coming up and congratulating them on their titillating performance with the dragon the afternoon before. However, his exclamation didn’t quite have the impact he was hoping for, as all he got in response was a few Slytherins catcalling Harry and Hermione, and one of the professors walking up and going, “Shh! No yelling allowed in the Great Hall.”

For the rest of the day, he continued trying to stir up negativity against the fourth Champions, but to little avail. A few of his fellow Snakes joined in with him, and Crabbe and Goyle were legally obligated to do whatever he told them, but the castle as a whole was strongly on Harry's (and Hermione’s) side for the first time since he’d started school there over three years before, negating what little damage Draco could inflict. So despite Snake Boy’s best attempts, Harry and Hermione had quite a pleasant First Task day-after.

Unlike a certain redhead who shall remain nameless, but starts with ‘R’ and rhymes with ‘on’, who graced the front cover of the only mainstream newspaper in the country with his full glory. His day, and the rest of the week, went about as poorly as the days after the infamous Care of Magical Creatures class had, only less pleasant. And little did he know, his Saturday was going to be much, much worse.

~HP~

That evening, as Ginevra Weasly was once again plotting how to leap Harry Potter, Boy-Who-Lived, Fourth Triwizard Champion, there came a knock on her window from Errol, the family flying feather duster.

Opening it up, she found the following handwritten message from her dear, esteemed mum.

_Hi, my dearest, sweetest Ginevra,_

_I saw in the impeccable Daily Prophet this morning that your slightly older brother disgraced our esteemed family name yesterday during the Triwizard Tournament. While I would assume he is receiving some sort of punishment from the school, I need you to deliver my punishment to him for me._

_Included with this letter is a vial of the Twenty-Four Hour Raging Hard Cock/Orgasm Denial Potion I give your father any time he disobeys me. Slip it into Ron’s drink at breakfast on Saturday morning, and within five minutes it will leave him with a maximally engorged penis, that will remain such for twenty-four hours. Throughout the entire time, his dick will remain painfully rock hard, and no amount of stimulation will allow him to come. He won’t even be able to feel any kind of relief or pleasurable sensations at all, no matter how many hands, mouths, vaginas, or arseholes wrap around it. To him, it will feel like his distended penis is simply sticking straight up into the air, being touched by nothing, while aching in pain._

_It will also make him substantially weaker than you. So when he quickly gets up from the table to try to go relieve himself, follow him. Once you are out of sight of any crowds, grab his arm and lead him to the hidden bedroom on the south corridor of the fifth floor that I told you about for taking Harry too when you finally land him. Once there, strip your brother of his robes, and tie him spread-eagle to the bed. His punishment, which you shall deliver for me, is being used like the little dildo he is, without ever getting to come himself. Get off using his dick as many times as you like until night, and then leave him tied up with an aching cock for the remaining ten hours or so until the potion wears off, which will also magically undo the ropes you bound him with. Now, I know your brother has an extremely small prick, and this spell won’t help with that, but just do the best you can with it. I know your tight young pussy will be able to get off well enough, since even I’ve done it with my not so tight, not so young snatch more times than I can count when he was still growing up and hadn’t started attending Hogwarts yet, or else disobeyed me over the summer since then._

_Good luck, enjoy yourself, and say hi to my future son-in-law, Harry ’The Boy-Who-Lived’ Potter, for me;_

_— Your loving mother, Molly Weasley_

Turning the envelope upside down, the vial in question fell out into her hand. Holding it up to the light, she admired the blood-red liquid for a few seconds, before storing it carefully in her robes next to her wand for safe keeping.


	13. Punishment

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Weasleycest ahead.

Saturday morning, Ron walked into the Great Hall hoping he would finally have a decent day.

It was bright and sunshiny outside, and whilst he had mountains of homework festering away since he no longer had the Granger mudblood to do it all for him, he planned on spending all of the day outside flying on one of the school broomsticks, and otherwise enjoying himself — there’d be time for homework when he was dead.

Fortunately, he’d slept in late enough that the cheater and the mudblood weren’t in the Great Hall when he entered, and he took a seat next to his little sister, who had been one of the few people not to make fun of him after that absurd article had been published in the Prophy. As he piled his plate high with food, he thought he briefly saw out of the corner of his eye Ginny mess with his glass, but he figured she was probably just topping it off for him like a good little sister, and didn’t think anything of it.

He shoveled half his plate down his gullet, before cleansing it with a long draught of pumpkin juice. He dove back in, but a couple minutes later, he felt his penis suddenly spring to life, lighting on fire. He quickly glanced around, but there weren’t any exceptionally beautiful girls around that his brain could have subconsciously felt, and the Veela chick certainly wasn’t anywhere to be seen. He tried to ignore it for a while, but the rock hard aching wasn’t to be denied, and he hadn’t ever learned the subtle art of jerking himself off under the table, so he quickly excused himself to no one in particular, and headed off to the nearest little boys room to beat his meat quickly before returning to breakfast, idly wondering why his magnificent cock was acting oddly today.

He didn’t notice Ginny had gotten up and followed him out until she grabbed his arm just as he was about to duck into the bathroom. He turned to shake her off, but found that she’d somehow developed an iron grip since the last time she’d grabbed him to try to drag him off somewhere he didn’t want to go. Powerless, he found himself being drug through hallways he didn’t recognize, until Ginny finally opened a door and shoved him through.

He looked around, finding it to be a small bedroom, but didn’t have time to think on this as suddenly his robes were being pulled up over his head, and he was standing naked in front of his sister. Who proceeded to push him flat on his back onto the bed, and tie his hands and feet to the four corners of the bed. He tried struggling against her, but his extraordinary strength seemed to have deserted him momentarily, leaving him helpless.

Once he was securely tied up, Ginny looked down at him imperiously and said, “This is mum’s punishment to you for what you did at the Triwizard tournament. I can only imagine her punishments will just get worse if you continue to act out.”

Then she climbed onto the bed over him, lowering herself onto his tiny dick under her robes — after all, this was a punishment for her brother, no reason to let him enjoy her breasts or pretty, puffy, pink pussy. She rode him like her favorite dildo for over an hour, bringing herself off four times. It took quite a lot of work on her part, as his cock wasn’t half the size of what she kept in her trunk for her daily pleasure, or even three-quarters the size of several of the boys around the castle she’d ridden, but she got there eventually, spilling her juices all over his crotch each time. Promising to return soon, she exited the room, leaving him tied up and aching, comforted only by the fact that his sister was less than a quarter the weight of their mum, and hadn’t sat on his face yet like Molly did repeatedly when she punished him.

~HP~

Meanwhile, Harry and Hermione were having a much better day than Ron, though perhaps not so much as Ginny, who’d desired to tie her youngest brother down and fuck him into oblivion ever since she’d glimpsed her mother practically squashing him into her bed a few summers earlier.

Harry and Hermione had headed up to the library for some light studying before they headed outside for the day. But as soon as they entered the house of books, they found a most unusual scene. There was a red carpet, decked on either side by what looked like half the population of Hogwarts house elves. The elves beckoned the two humans down the red carpet with much bowing and squeaking, so Harry and Hermione did as they wished, and walked down the crimson aisle. Finally reaching the end, they found the last being they ever would have expected, wearing miniature Hogwarts robes, and bowing deeply to the pair.

It was Dobby, the house elf.

“Master Harry, Missy Mione!” he squeaked. “Dobby is so happy to see Harry Potter again, sir, and to meet Harry’s bestest friend, Missy Mione Grangy.”

“I’m happy to see you too again, Dobby, but what is all this?” asked Harry.

“This is a bonding ceremony, sir, to bond Dobby the house elf to the Potter House to serve forever and ever, and also a second bond to the muggle Grangy House, since Missy Mione is not a Potter yet,” squealed Dobby with unbridled joy.

“And Madam Pince is okay with all this? She’s usually a bit more strict about what she allows in her sanctum,” asked Hermione.

“Oh no, not at all, Mistress Hermione,” squeaked one of the elves off to the side who apparently didn’t have a speech impediment, but did still squeak like a mouse high on helium. “Madam Pince is tied up naked on a table over there so she can’t interfere.”

Hermione stared at the house elf in shock for a second, before looking over in the direction the elf pointed, where sure enough, she could just make out the light skin tone of a female tied up and lying on one of the reading tables.

Shaking her head, wondering if she was going to get her unlimited library pass revoked for this, even if it wasn’t actually any her fault, Hermione simply said, “We’ll help her later, let’s get on with this first."

The Hogwarts house elves quickly performed the bonding ceremonies, binding Dobby, house elf, to the Houses Potter and Granger. Once that was completed, and Harry and Hermione had dismissed all the house elves, including Dobby, back to their Hogwarts work, they walked over to the table where Madam Pince lay bound and gagged on her favorite table.

For as strict as she looked in her robes, she was actually much younger than either of them had ever realized. Thin, but not unhealthily so, and really quite pretty when she wasn’t covering it all up with robes, glares, and general irritability.

Removing the gag, Hermione apologized, “Sorry Madam Pince, we had no idea this was happening. We had just come up here to do some light reading before going outside.”

“It’s fine, it’s not your faults,” waved off Madam Pince — or she would have waved it off, had her hands not still been bound.

“Is there anything we can do to help make this up to you? He _is_ our house elf now, after all, and he’s only like this because I saved him second year,” asked Harry.

“Well…” began Pince slowly, reddening slightly and suddenly becoming unwilling to look at either of them.

As Harry furrowed his eyebrows in the universal sign of befuddlement, Hermione quickly deduced what the issue was. Walking around Pince to where she had better access to those glistening folds, she ran a finger through them, causing a shudder to run through the librarian, and asked sweetly, “Are you wanting my Harry inside you? Is that what has all the blood rushing to your cheeks, that you’re too embarrassed to ask about?”

Madam Pince nodded her head shakily. “Librarians don’t get much action in the best of circumstances, and there’s no male teachers here even worth trying to get, other than Professor Lupy last year, and he was too paranoid about his lycanthropy to stick his wolfish dick anywhere. As for Lockhart, word on the street was always that he was about as well-endowed as that Weasley kid who keeps trying to show his pecker off like it’s something to be proud of, Quirrell was just weird, even without Voldypants hitchhiking on the back of his noggin, and the two defense teachers before that since I took up this post were both females, so no juicy cocks there.”

“Promise our unlimited library passes will remain intact after Dobby’s little stunt, and Harry will take care of that for you right quick,” replied Hermione.

“They were safe to begin with, like I said this wasn’t your fault, but they’ll definitely be safe now.”

Hermione gave a quick nod to Harry, who pulled his robes off, revealing his masterpiece.

Slapping Pince’s clit with it a few times, he plunged in, burying himself to the hilt amongst some of the lewdest moans and mewls he’d ever heard, as Hermione pinched and kneaded the librarian’s nipples and breasts.

~HP~

At the same time, Ron’s much, Much, _MUCH_ smaller dick was being hilted by Ginny’s vagina for the second session that morning.

Having returned to the Great Hall to finish up her breakfast, and then taken a short stroll around the castle to enjoy the beautiful day, she had finally returned to the secret Wesley fuckroom, to punish her brother some more. As small as he was, she could slide down on him without preamble, slipping her hand underneath her robes to work feverishly at her clit.

She’d really rather ride one of her many dildo’s, or transform any of her other brothers’ or father’s dicks onto him, but she didn’t want to disappoint her mother, so she did as her mum had asked of her. Anyway, it would all be worth it when she finally got to ride the Boy-Who-Lived’s legendary cock to her never-ending pleasure for the rest of her life.

But in the meantime, she would punish Ron as he so justly deserved, using his tiny prick like the training dildo it was only good for, making sure he saw how many times she came on him that day without him ever getting the tiniest bit of relief from it. If she knew her dear mum as well as she thought she did, this specialty home-brewed potion would still allow the full effects of being ridden for hours on end crash down on him as soon as the other effects wore off, and he wouldn’t be able to walk straight or sit down properly for a week. She knew there had been many times her father looked much worse for the wear over the summers and before she’d come to Hogwarts, and now that she knew her mum’s secret weapon, she was almost positive that this was the cause.

As she bounced up and down on his cock, her breasts bounced wildly underneath her robes, rubbing deliciously against the magical fabric, quickly building stiff peaks that the friction pleasured even more. Even from where he lay tied up, Ron could tell that her tits would be a show in and of themselves if she would just set them free — certainly much better than their mum’s. While Ron knew that magical robes were supposed to prevent normal wear and tear of female breasts, it either hadn’t worked on Molly Weasley, age still defeated magic, or her bags were so big and heavy and she’d bounced them around so many times that gravity had finally won out, and they now hung like an old grandma’s size double D's. Point being, he’d really rather _not_ see hers, which is probably why she let them hang free when she punished him — and the same with her cunt, which resembled a crab rangoon. As opposed to his sister, who wasn’t letting him see _anything_ fun, who had jugs that he was sure were young, healthy, and beautiful.

Ginny soon peaked for the fifth time that morning, her girl-cum gushing out of her snatch into his lap like a geyser. She’d always been one to produce a lot of juices when she came, and it just made her even hotter to see it all covering her perch, making it slippery to work with. Deciding her mother wouldn’t begrudge her torturing Ron in a slightly different way, she shifted forward, sliding her sopping lips up his bare stomach, before eventually settling down over his face, smearing the evidence of her pleasure all over his face. Then, as he obediently stuck his tongue out, she rocked back and forth across it, soon emptying her cunt all over his face, grinding down to make sure no part of his head was left uncovered. Sliding back down to his dick, she impaled herself once more, taking great pride in the way she’d made his face glisten in the sunlight, and how he couldn’t get any of it off and it would just dry there like that. She’d even made sure to get plenty in his hair, so that it now stuck straight out like it had some all natural hair potion in it.

~HP~

Long after the sun had set that evening, Ginny finally climbed off her brother for the last time.

If she’d counted correctly, she’d come on his prick twenty times in the fourteen hours or so she’d had him tied up at her mercy, along with another four times on his face, twice just humping his prick against her clit and not actually in her pussy, and once apiece humping his thigh and stomach. Yet through it all, her brother’s diminutive dick remained standing straight up out of his mess of curly red hair — red hair that was now firmly matted to his groin after being flooded by her juices so many times.

Patting his thigh a time or two, she straightened out her robes, making sure they didn’t look mussed up at all even though there shouldn’t be anyone in the halls this late at night, and quickly cast a sweat-cleansing charm over herself. Then she walked out of the room, carefully closing the door behind her, before tiredly walking back to Gryffindor Tower, feeling the day quite acutely.

When she’d finally made it up the far too many stairs to her dorm room, she found Errol sitting on her bed, holding another small package from her mother. Opening it up, she found another vial and accompanying note explaining that it was a pussy relief potion, so she wouldn’t be overly sore or walking and sitting funny after exercising her muscles so much more than normal in such a small space of time. Swallowing it in one gulp, she immediately felt relief surge through her aching cunt, and let out a sigh of relief. She had a strong tolerance for coming frequently, and Ron’s dick hadn’t stretched her in the least, but her walls having to try to clinch on something less than her fingers and dildos all day had still taken its toll on her centre, and she really hadn’t looked forward to having to wander through the castle the next day slightly bow-legged.

Meanwhile, as Ginny took a long, hot shower and climbed into her warm bed, Ron was still painfully achingly hard where he lay tied up in the long-abandoned part of the castle — needless to say, he didn’t get any sleep that night. But finally, after what felt like an eternity, though in reality it was only exactly 86,400 seconds, the ties that bound his wrists and ankles fell away.

After freezing in shock for several seconds, Ron’s hand shot of its own accord to his dick that felt like was about to burst, and without even thinking about where his spatter would go when he finally got off, he began stroking himself with feverish strokes. To little surprise after having literally been beyond fully hard for twenty-four hours with absolutely no relief, in almost no time at all his balls contracted without warning, and cum exploded out of his dick like a firework. Rope after rope of fiery-hot, sticky cum shot out, hitting the headboard behind him, covering his face, and eventually petering out after several minutes and what felt like gallons, coating his stomach in a thick pool of cum.

As for the release itself, it was almost blindingly painful, his dick feeling like it was literally on fire. But it had the effect of wearing his body out so thoroughly that he blacked out as soon as he finished, his cock occasionally still twitching lightly in his unconsciousness, a little more cum dribbling out the tip each time.

~HP~

An hour later he finally regained consciousness, and first thing he noticed was that his cock no longer hurt, for the first time in over a day. The second was that he was completely covered in his own still wet and sticky cum, all over top of his sister’s dried cum. Unfortunately, he’d never learned any cleansing charms, and anyway, his wand was over in his robes that were lying haphazardly on the floor out of his reach, so he couldn’t clean it all up magically anyway before he had to sit up. So he rolled over on the bed, wiping it off on the sheets as best as he could, before finally standing up and walking over to his robes.

For the first time in his life he really wished he knew at least some kind of cleaning charm to get the residue off his body, but since he didn’t, he grudgingly threw his robes on over all the mess, and hobbled out of the room. At the first bathroom he came across, he ducked in and washed his face off the best he could, so hopefully no one would notice anything suspicious when he got back to the inhabited part of the castle, before he could get up to his dorm and take a shower. As for his walking, he’d just have to blame it on spending too much time riding the school brooms.

But come Monday morning, it turned out he wasn’t the only one who couldn’t walk straight or sit comfortably.

Harry and Hermione were still relaxing at the Gryffindor table reading ahead for their lessons that day when Ron and Madam Pince entered the Great Hall at the same time, with almost matching hobbles.

Madam Pince they’d expected, as Harry and Hermione had spent most of Sunday afternoon in a back room of the library ravishing the librarian. Between Harry’s cock and Harry and Hermione’s tongues and fingers it was quite astonishing she could walk at all, and if it weren’t for magical potions, she probably wouldn’t have been able to. But Ron, on the other, was quite a surprise to them. Always walking far taller than he had any right to based on actual skill or history, he was now bent slightly and wincing with every step he took, and when he sat down a ways down the table, he looked in agony.

Looking at each other, neither Harry nor Hermione had any explanation for this sudden change. They kept a careful observation of him from afar for the next few days, until finally by midweek whatever seemed to be ailing him had finally cleared up and he was back to his pompous self, but they never heard any explanation for his strange behavior.


	14. A Late Announcement

Two weeks before Christmas, Professor McG finally thought it worthwhile to alert the fourth year Gryffindors, and by extension, two of the Champions for whom this information was especially critical, that on Christmas evening they would have to have dates for some Ball thing that was being held, or else suffer the scorn, ridicule, and mockery of their fellow students who _had_ managed to round up a date in two weeks.

And for said two Fourth Champions, they not only _had to_ had to have dates for this Yule Ball thingamajig, once they found those dates they also had to learn how to dance perfectly, without any missteps that would immediately be pounced upon by the rest of the school population, with whoever they convinced to go with them in whatever little time remained before the big day, as they were required to open the Ball with song and dance, minus the song. All in all, it sounded like a plan Snape would have come up with to best torture his subjects with.

Harry and Hermione both silently supposed they would go with each other, as there was no one else they’d want go with, but it was the principle of the matter that was eating at them both. And apparently they weren’t the only class not to be told of this Christmastide Gala before now, as no one else in the school had been talking about it before that lunch period, when suddenly everyone was, and the Hogwarts Rumor Mill never would have let something that juicy remain quiet for more than two minutes and thirty-seven seconds after the first person found out about it.

Leaving Transfiguration after having been held back to be told the extra information only pertinent to them, Harry and Hermione wandered down towards lunch, where they ran into the twins near the top of the Grand Staircase.

“What’s got your panties in a bunch?” asked Gred as he caught the looks on the Golden Duo’s faces.

“I assume you’ve been enlightened to this last minute Sphere of Noel?” inquired Hermione.

“We might have heard some rumors of it, when Prof Flity told us all about it at the end of class five minutes ago,” answered Forge.

“Well, we were just griping about the fact that the teachers _could_ have told us about this back on opening night when they told us about the tournament, or the day before Halloween when they fully explained the Triwizard competition, or really any time at all earlier than two weeks before the accursed thing,” explained Harry.

“So not fans of this Globe get-together?” picked up Gred.

“We would have thought you two would be climbing all over each other to go together,” added Forge. “Or at least just climbing all over each other.”

“Does _everyone_ know we’re having coitus?” asked Hermione, shaking her head in exasperation.

“Well, everyone in Gryffindor with eyes knows Harry’s sleeping in your dorm —“

“— so it’s possible Ron still hasn’t figured it out —“

“— and while that’s not definitive proof that you’re banging each other against every semi-suitable surface in the castle —“

“— we pinned Fleur down and made her confirm that you two are more one than two now.”

“That beautiful, sexy, French veela rat fink,” growled Hermione endearingly.

“So back to the Spherule — you don’t want to go,” stated Gred, redirecting the conversation back to where it had originally been.

“Precisely,” replied Harry.

“Well — you just might be in luck,” said Forge.

“You see, we weren’t exactly enthralled by this whole Orb whatchamacallit, either,” continued Gred.

“So we’ve been contemplating an alternative, in a sort of protest,” finished Forge with a smug grin.

Hermione and Harry just raised their eyebrows, awaiting an explanation.

Leaning in to whisper conspiratorially, Gred said in a hushed voice, “It’s too dangerous to speak here. After supper tonight, tap your special map and say 'Snape is a murderer' and follow it to our secret office.”

~HP~

So after supper that night, Harry and Hermione went up to Hermione's dorm, where Harry’s trunk had been moved to by the house elves after their second night cohabitating.

Rummaging around, Harry pulled out the Marauder's Map, and laying it out on Hermione’s bed, tapped it with his wand saying, “Snape is a murderer.” Unlike when simply saying ‘I solemnly swear I am up to no good’, thin ink lines didn’t simply begin to spread like a spider's web from the point where Harry's wand had touched it — instead, it unfolded itself from where Harry could have sworn there weren’t any folds before, until it took up Hermione’s entire bed.

It was still a map like before, but this one was far larger and more extensive, and included all the extra halls and wings and passages and even floors that were no longer in use by the school, and few students ever wandered to. Even Harry and Hermione, who had done a fair bit of exploring in their three and a half short years, had only just recently found any of these deserted halls, when they were looking for a place to practice before the First Task.

“Whew!” whistled Hermione, staring at the map in disbelief. “This must be the entire school, from back when there was a thriving wizard population, and there were thousands of students running around here every year.”

“There. That must be the twins’ secret lair,” said Harry, pointing at a room on the south wing of the third floor that was pulsating with an orange glow and had the words ’Twins’ Secret Hideout — Do NOT Enter’, along with two dots with ‘Gred’ and ‘Forge’ underneath them, telling Harry and Hermione that the twins were in fact in.

Fifteen minutes later they’d finally made their way to the room, and knocked on the nondescript stone door. It immediately slid open like something out of an action/adventure movie, complete with the centuries-old dust falling down from the top. Entering, it looked like they’d walked into the storeroom of every illicit and banned object that had ever been brought into Hogwarts — which they quickly reminded themselves it probably was, given the twins propensity for collecting artifacts of the questionable legality type.

“Like our collection?” came Forge’s voice from behind the desk across the room.

“What is this place?” asked Hermione, before quickly adding, “ _Besides_ your office."

“Based on the original contents of the room, and the fact the back is far larger inside than it can possibly be outside, we believe it’s the predecessor to the RoR,” answered Gred.

“The RoR?”

“Room of Requirement. Haven’t discovered that yet?” replied Forge. “It’s a secret room on the seventh floor across from the Troll Ballet painting, that you have to walk in front of the blank wall three times thinking of what you need for the door to appear.”

“It’s far more diverse than this room, of course, but its main room is a giant storehouse for anything students need to hide in a hurry,” continued Gred. “It also goes by the name ‘Come and Go Room’, though that’s mostly just the house elves.”

“But all the new stuff you see in here we’ve either taken off the hands of students, found hiding in random places, or brought down from the RoR,” finished Forge.

“Cool!” said Harry as he began walking around the edge of the room checking everything out, while Hermione took one of the chairs across from the twins’ desk and got to business.

“So you said you had an alternative to the Yule Ball.”

“Yes. You see, parties are something of a speciality for us, and we weren’t too thrilled to learn there would be a large one hosted on these very grounds without our consultation and expertise.”

“Also, we understand that most students here aren’t dating, and forcing everyone fourth, and to an extent third, year and up to ask someone they don’t really know out in a measly fourteen days, or suffer the mockery and ridicule of student and teacher alike, is quite plainly put, cruel.”

“So while maybe we don’t quite have the resources to pull off the same magnitude party Hogwarts will —“

“— we would like to present an alternative for all those who still want a Christmas party, but without worrying about all the forced date crap.”

“I like it,” said Harry, plopping down into the seat Hermione was already occupying, despite there being an empty one next to it.

“Does this party have a name?” asked Hermione, looking around from behind Harry so she could see the twins.

Gred pulled a poster out from one of the desk’s many drawers, reading —

**Twins' Not A Yule Ball - All the fun with none of the adults or dates**

**Christmas Night 6 PM**

**If interested, ask twins for the secret location**


	15. Are You Ready?

Towards the end of their final Care of Magical Creatures class of the year, Hagrid pulled Harry and Hermione to the side.

"You'll be openin the dancin', won yeh, Harry? Who're you takin’?”

Harry shrugged.

He and Hermione, along with the twins, had decided it safest not to advertise their secret little get-together, instead just spreading news of it by word of mouth to those they thought most interested in coming. Harry and Hermione had immediately sought out Fleur and Krum, who’d instantly said they’d come, Fleur because she wasn’t about to let Harry and Hermione out of her sight and also was like Harry in that people only wanted to go with her because she was a veela and not because they actually cared about her, and Krum because while it was not popular knowledge, he was already married back in Bulgaria — and also because like Harry and Fleur, most girls would only be interested in going with him because of his fame, and not his charming personality. Krum had gone on to tell Cedric, who he’d apparently become good friends with, and Cedric had agreed to come, too. All the girls in Hermione’s dorm were in as well, along with Neville. Outside of their year and House Harry and Hermione weren’t really sure, but from what they’d heard from the twins, with a week to go before the big day, they’d recruited close to half the school already and were still growing.

It was certainly looking like it was going to turn out to be quite the big shindig, but they all knew the teachers would declare it illegal faster than you could say ‘Avada Kedavra’ if they ever heard about it, and while Hagrid might not be against it himself, he wasn’t exactly known for being able to keep his trap shut, and was bound to leak it to one of the teachers who would care.

So Harry just kind of mumbled, “Haven’t asked anyone yet,” which was completely true, and more importantly, pacified the half-giant.

Escaping any more questions from the gamekeeper when the bell rung in salvation, now all Harry had to do was survive all the other girls asking him to go with them to the Yule Ball between then and Christmas Day. The number of requests he was getting per day was shrinking, as more and more girls were invited to the Not A Yule Ball, leaving fewer to ask Harry, but there were more than a few girls in the castle, and not all were in the know yet.

Who he didn’t expect to have to deal with, however, was Ronald Bilius Weasley.

They hadn’t seen much of him since the First Task and his inability to walk straight or sit down without looking in pain for the first couple days of the following week, which they still hadn’t heard from the rumor mill what was all about. Even Lavender and Parvati, the resident editors-in-chief of said rumor mill, couldn’t tell them.

But as Harry and Hermione sat on their couch by the fire a few days before Christmas, the redhead came and plopped himself down in the armchair across from them.

Hermione was laying down, her legs stretched across Harry’s lap. And while from anyone who looked’s perspective everything seemed completely normal, and Hermione’s robes stretched down to her ankles like always, in reality, the entire back of her robes were hitched up to her bum, and Harry’s finger was lightly brushing across her sopping folds.

It was their secret guilty pleasure, Harry lightly fingering her as they did their homework together, or just relaxed by the fire enjoying the ambiance of the common room. Harry made sure to keep it all very light, and not work his girlfriend up too much and cause her to moan or whimper or anything, and give them away — just enough to make Hermione’s body start humming pleasantly, so when they finally made it up to her dorm she would pounce on him like a wild tiger and fuck him into oblivion, usually before they could even make it into the shower to wash the day off.

But for now they were just relaxing on the couch together, Harry stroking Hermione’s slick pussy and Hermione’s leg subtly rocking lightly over Harry’s engorged cock, when their ex-friend decided to reassert himself into their life.

“You two got dates for the Ball yet?” he asked, apparently oblivious to the fact that if they had been planning on going to the Ball at all, they obviously would have gone with each other.

“Nope,” replied Harry truthfully enough, delving his finger just slightly into Hermione’s opening, causing her to bite her lower lip. However, as it just made her look like she was concentrating extra hard on something she was reading in the book she had propped up on her stomach, neither Ron, nor anyone else around, thought anything of it.

“The twins just told me the same thing,” mused Ron as much to himself as anyone else, since no one else was really paying any attention to him. “Odd. I figured those two wouldn’t be pushing it off to the last minute.”

He lapsed into silence for a while, as Harry continued stroking Hermione’s nether regions and reading his book on Advanced Transfiguration, and Hermione tried to pay more attention to her own book on More Advanced Transfiguration Than Harry’s Book, than on the feeling of Harry’s digit drifting her off into a pleasurable haze.

But eventually growing tired of not hearing his own voice, the redhead continued on, “We should get a move on, you know...ask someone. We've just got to grit our teeth and do it.”

Harry idly wondered who Ron was referring to when he said ‘we’ — unless the redhead had started referring to himself in the royal plural — and flipped the page in his book, simultaneously sliding a single finger into Hermione’s core, very slowly so as not to make her accidentally gasp at the intrusion.

Not receiving any answer, Ron took this to mean that Harry was highly intrigued and invested in the discussion, and pressed on eagerly, "We don't want to end up with a pair of trolls. I'd rather go alone than with — with Eloise Midgen, say."

"So basically, you're going to take the best-looking girl who'll have you, even if she's completely horrible?” asked Hermione indifferently, more interested in just how far Harry’s finger was going to be able to penetrate her from that position than whatever Harry’s late friend was babbling on about.

"Er - yeah, that sounds about right," replied Ron, strongly bolstered by the fact Hermione had found the conversation titillating enough to join in as well, and apparently agreed with his assessment of the situation.

“Better hurry, as everyone from Hermione’s dorm is already out, along with Fleur, all the Gryffindor girls from the twins’ year, and probably most of the rest as well by now,” contributed Harry magnanimously, wanting the youngest peckered Weasley to have a heads up on how difficult it was going to be for him to even find a girl who wasn’t going to the Not A Yule Ball, let alone would actually consider going with the git — also, his finger had made it as far into Hermione’s snatch as it would go and he couldn’t move it around at all without risking eliciting a noise from the bookworm it was impaled in, so he didn’t really have anything better to do at the moment than humor the weasel by talking to it. He finished insincerely, “But I'm sure you'll find someone somewhere who'll have you."

Silence reigned again for several minutes, until a dim lightbulb finally clicked on in Ron’s brain as one of Hermione’s hands came to seemingly innocently rest on her breast, though Harry knew she was actually trying to give herself a slight bit of friction somewhere other than her core in order to distract herself enough that Harry could slowly pull his finger back out without her moaning lewdly.

“Hermione — You’re a girl…” Ron said slowly.

_Welcome to the club — Harry figured that out a long time ago, and currently has a finger inside me proving the fact that I’m of the vagina-having variety of human_ , thought Hermione to herself as she lowered her book over her face in seeming tiredness or frustration, but to really allow herself to screw her eyes shut and bite her tongue as Harry slowly slid his finger out. _Although, given the fact Harry has something substantially wider than a finger inside of him right now as well, I guess simply having a phallic-shaped object inside you isn’t definitive proof of being female_.

“ _You_ can come with one of us!”

Looking down at his bushy-haired best friend, who still had her book covering her face as he’d only managed to slide his finger halfway out so far, Harry decided he should probably answer for her. “I don’t think she’s particularly interested in going with you."

“Oh, come on,” growled Ron impatiently. “We need partners, we're going to look really stupid if we haven't got any and everyone else has.”

Once again, Harry wondered who these extra people Ron was referring to were when the redhead said ‘we’, as he finished extracting his digit from the girl on top of him’s cunt, but before he could work on an answer to give to Ron, Hermione lifted the book away from her face, looking for all the world like she hadn’t just had Harry’s finger up her vagina, and said, “Not happening, Ronald Bilius Weasley. I wouldn’t go with you if you were the last male in the school.” Turning to look back up at Harry, she said, "Harry, I think I’m heading up to bed.”

Harry nodded, subtly grabbing his wand that he had resting under her bum and casting the charm to straighten the back of her robes back down so they covered her again. Feeling herself decent again, Hermione stood up, packing away her and Harry’s books, as Harry stood up next to her. Bidding Ron curt goodbyes, they turned and headed up to Hermione’s dorm to fuck each other senseless.

Ron simply sat there looking extremely put out, having no clue who he was going to ask to the Yule Ball.


	16. The Yule Balls

Half past seven on Christmas evening, Professor McG walked through the Entrance Hall.

To her complete and utter astonishment and befuddlement, there wasn’t a single student milling about yet waiting for the Yule Ball to open in thirty minutes. She hadn’t expected the entire school to be there already, but she _had_ been sure there would be at least a few students there by then, chatting it up with students from the other houses or the foreign schools that they didn’t normally talk with on a day to day basis. But there wasn’t a single solitary soul in the entire breadth of the Entrance Hall, to the point where it echoed eerily as she clicked through in her magical high heels.

She entered the Great Hall to make sure everything in there was up to spiff for their magical evening, wondering why no one had started trickling down yet. After going over everything with all the other teachers to make sure there weren’t any hiccups in their flawless plans, she peaked back out into the Entrance Hall, positive she’d see people this time, since there were only fifteen minutes left until doors opened.

And she did.

Two people.

One was the Weasley girl, looking like she’d thrown on every bit of makeup she could get her hands on in a sorely misguided attempt to seduce some guy — McG didn’t have to think long to guess who that might be. The other was a seventh year Slytherin boy, who was wearing the standard issue Slytherin scowl and an above average dick beneath his robes if she remembered correctly from random spot-checking over the years at the end of Transfiguration class, standing on the complete opposite side of the room from the breasted Weasley. But fifteen minutes before approximately two hundred students were supposed to enter the Great Hall for the spectacular Yule Ball, and there were only two students waiting. Even for Hogwarts' standards of being late, this was beginning to get slightly worrisome.

Ducking back into the Great Hall, she waited ten more minutes, until there were only five minutes left until the party started, and she really had to get the Champions and their dates gathered. Stepping back out into the Entrance Hall, she found that the number of people gathered had more than decupled since the last time she looked out.

Which would have been great news, except given how many students there’d been before, this still meant there were fewer than two dozen people milling around in the open space, and very few of them seemed to be partnered. Which had been the whole point of the Yule Ball, to force a bunch of teenagers into extremely awkward pairings that were almost guaranteed not to be their actual soulmates. Also, none of the twenty-two students there were Champions.

This wasn’t going anything like it was supposed to.

Meanwhile, two hours earlier, nearly ninety percent of the student body had descended on the secret location of the Twins’ Not A Yule Ball.

It was the first time for almost all of the students being in the abandoned section of the castle, other than Harry, Hermione, the twins, and a handful of Slytherins who knew about this part of the castle from their families. The twins may not have had the Weird Sisters to play raucous music for them, but thanks to Dobby and the rest of the Hogwarts house elves, and their own secret passages to Hogsmeade, there was food and drink galore. The house elves had also decorated the hall gloriously, and several wizarding wirelesses mingled together in every type of music the wizarding world had to offer.

A classic twins’ party — just Christmas-themed and with all of the castle, instead of Quidditch and just Gryffindor.

And now two hours later, as Professor McG tried to figure what the hell was happening that no one was at the official teacher sanctioned formal dance, everyone who had decided to go to the twins’ party instead were having the time of their lives. Music was blasting far too loud, tables upon tables were piled high with all the food one could want, and there weren’t any stern teachers wandering about stopping couples from snogging.

To start off the snogging, so no one else would feel self-conscious about it, Fleur had taken it upon herself to shove her tongue down both Harry and Hermione’s throats in the middle of the room for everyone to see, and even given Krum a chaste kiss on his cheek. They had of course received quite a bit of friendly catcalling, but took it all in stride, before Harry and Hermione proceeded to practically devour each other’s faces so no one would be confused who was with who. This snog, of course, came as much less of a surprise to everyone there, as pretty much the entire school had heard at least rumors by that point that they were more often one person than two, but it still resulted in an enthusiastic round of applause as the rumors were solidified into irrefutable fact.

But back at the main part of the castle, there wasn’t any cheering of any kind to be heard anywhere.

Not knowing what else to do, at eight o’clock sharp Professor McG had opened the doors to the Great Hall and let the small number of people gathered in. Ten of the twenty-two students were Slytherins, who were shooting nasty looks at the other dozen every chance they got, especially Draco and Pansy, who appeared to be the only pair out of the entire twenty-two students who’d showed up. The only Gryffindors were Ginny and Ronny Weasley, both looking extremely sour, along with the Creevey brothers, both of whom McG was pretty sure were too young to be there. The other eight were evenly split between Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff, of whom McG was pretty sure five total were third years, and there definitely without partners. But between the five of them, the Creeveys, and the four Slytherins she was pretty sure weren’t fourth year or older either, if she kicked them all out, there would have only been eleven students left, so she didn’t say anything and let them all in.

The meal was a far somberer affair than it was supposed to be, and when the Weird Sisters came out to play, as there were no champions to open the dance, the professors had to let everyone there go out onto the dance floor. Which turned out to be almost as much of a disaster as everything else, as there were no pairs other than Malfoy and Parkinson, and everyone else felt too awkward about the whole thing to pair up on their own. The teachers briefly tried pairing them up themselves, but as the Slytherins refused to dance with anyone non-Slytherin, and everyone else refused to dance with anyone Slytherin, the forced pairs quickly fell apart.

By ten o’clock, a mere two hours after it had started, Professor McG officially brought the Yule Ball to an end, sending the eight students still remaining back to their dorms. The entire thing had been an unmitigated disaster, and she had no clue how it could have possibly happened. Even when she and the other professors discussed it thoroughly for the following hour, trying to figure out why on earth the students wouldn’t have been biting at the bit to come to a highly structured, completely planned out, teacher sanctioned Christmas event with a nearly unlimited number of rules, and attempted forced pairings, none of them could figure it out.

The Not A Yule Ball, on the other hand, was still raging three hours later at one o’clock in the morning, seven hours after it had started, by which point people had literally started falling asleep on the chairs and couches that were scattered all around the room. More than a few dozen pairs had disappeared into nearby abandoned rooms and broom closets, and those merely snogging and making out drifted to slightly shadowed corners, or as more and more butterbeer (and possibly a few harder things the twins had scrounged up) was consumed, onto any semi-comfortable surface regardless of visibility. As for Harry, Hermione, and Fleur, they were tangled in a heap on one of the larger couches, having passed out a little after midnight.

By two a.m., everyone had finally conked out or stumbled back to their dorm rooms, and the castle was finally quiet again.


	17. Morning After

The following morning, long after the sun had risen, people finally began stirring.

Early risers on normal occasions, Harry, Hermione, and Fleur were some of the first to roust from slumber, with Harry and Hermione not intimately connected for the first time since Harry’s name had come out of the fiery goblet. They lazily disentangled their non-intimate limbs that _had_ still become tangled, before sharing a round of lazy kisses that eventually turned into a fair amount of over the robes groping, before a sleepy catcall from the twins made them decide they should perhaps go grab some breakfast before resuming their activities somewhere more private.

By the time the three of them left the abandoned portion of the castle for the more inhabited, about a quarter of the rest of the Not A Yule Ball patrons had started getting up as well. And several minutes later, as the three champions sat down at the Gryffindor table together and began eating a late breakfast, these other Not A Yule Ball’ers began wandering into the Great Hall after them to have breakfasts of their own.

The teachers at the head table, meanwhile, were both pleased and confused to see everyone who hadn’t attended their Ball the night before slowly drifting in, looking substantially like they’d done more than just hang out in their dorms all the evening before. Pleased, because obviously losing ninety percent of the students with no explanation wouldn’t look good if anyone heard about it — and how would they keep _that_ a secret when the end of the year came. But confounded, because they still had no clue why none of these students had attended the non-optional TriWizard Yule Ball. And also why they all looked almost but not quite hungover (without any of the negative side effects that came with actually being hungover) and like they’d been up till one in the morning or later, which was of course resolutely impossible, as the school had strict, completely unenforced (with the exception of Snape and Filch wandering the halls naked in the middle of the night) rules about students not being allowed out of their respective houses after nine pm, and none of these students had taken up the offer to be out three hours later than that by attending the Ball.

There was of course always the obvious solution of simply _asking_ one of these students what in the bloody hell tarnation was going on, but the professors were a proud lot, and didn’t like asking for help. Also, many of them were smart enough to realize that if something really were going on, there was a more than reasonable chance no one would squeal, even if that didn’t happen to be the case this time around.

For while everyone had been very hush-hush about the whole operation before it went down, now that it was over, they no longer had any reason not to tell a teacher why they hadn’t been at the stuffy Noel Dance should one ask. Anyway, its not like the rumor mill wouldn’t be running overtime about the shindig, which the professors were bound to hear at least snippets from before something new and more exciting took its place.

But the one place the professors _weren’t_ going to hear about it from was Rita Skeeter, who was diligently keeping her business arrangement with Hermione not to write anything negative about her, Harry, and friends et al. However, she wasn’t so contracted to do the same for the school, and the front page article of the Daily Prophet that morning included a giant photo of the nearly empty Great Hall from the night before, and a lengthy article that basically just said that only twenty-two of the estimated two hundred students in the castle over Christmas break deigned to attend the school’s formal Christmas celebration, the rest clearly having found some better way to spend their evening and night into the wee hours of the morning.

In comparison to most of her other pieces from Hogwarts that year it was really quite tame, not involving any nudity at all, but it still had the professors scowling in a less than pleased manner, as it painted the school in a less than perfect light and made it sound like their strict, rigid Christmas social wasn’t found to be the greatest thing ever created by the majority of the student body. Which admittedly was obviously true, but they hadn’t particularly wanted all of Wizarding Britain knowing that, and especially the fact that not a single, solitary, lone, sole, individual one of the five TriWizard champions had opted to attend.

~HP~

Having finished their midmorning breakfast and Daily Prophet reading all in one, Harry, Hermione, and Fleur made a mental note to reward Rita the next time they saw her, before going to reward themselves for not having ripped each other’s clothes off in the middle of the Great Hall and gotten busy then and there after not having done anything fun (in that sense of the word) for nearly eighteen hours. The last time either of the two girls had had Harry’s beautiful cock shoved deep inside them had been when they were all getting ready for the Not A Yule Ball before its 6 pm start time, and it was now nearing noon the next day.

Deciding it was unlikely too many people would be wandering around the Forbidden Forest that day between the nip in the air, the snow on the ground, the general laziness that followed partying hard for six to eight hours before blacking out from exhaustion, and the fact being near the Forbidden Forest was generally frowned upon by the adults, they deemed it safe enough to have their activities outside that day. Finding a fairly secluded spot just inside the Forbidden Forest's boundaries, Hermione cast a warming bubble around the area and Fleur transfigured them a luxurious bed, while Harry pulled off his robes and let his cock swing free.

Seeing his juicy cock standing at full attention just waiting to impale her, and not having felt its glory in far too long, Hermione’s cunt felt like a volcano between her legs, ready to explode at the slightest touch. Knowing a sudden plunge would stretch her pussy excruciatingly pleasantly, Hermione ditched her robes as quickly as witchly possible and stretched out on the bed spread eagle, demanding Fleur to magically bind her feet to the bedposts and hold her arms down to the bed so she couldn’t move. Once she was spread as wide open as possible and completely immobile, her snatch visibly dripping onto the sheets, she ordered Harry to jam his meat into her as hard as he possibly could, stretching her till she nearly broke.

Never one to deny his partner anything, Harry did as she asked, slamming into her tight pussy with all the force he possibly could, completely bottoming out in her, the crown of his cock shoved flat against her cervix. He didn’t even have time to think about whether he should start moving or not before Hermione’s walls cinched around his dick tighter than they ever had before, and Hermione’s yell of pleasurable pain as she was fully stretched in an instant turned into one long moan as stars burst in front of her eyes and the corners of her vision went black.

Harry remained seated motionless in her until she finally rode out her orgasm, coming back to earth.

“Feel good?” he smirked when she opened her eyes back up, her aftershocks still fluttering around his rock hard cock.

“Like you couldn’t believe,” sighed Hermione, before her eyes suddenly went wide and she exclaimed, “Wait! You don’t know? You didn’t come too?” Tilting her head back towards a naked Fleur who was still diligently holding Hermione’s hands in place above the younger girl’s head, she continued, “I thought you said we would always come together.”

“I said _almost_ always, as you can occasionally be high enough from a combined orgasm for you to get a second one if Harry keeps his cock in you and goes to town on your clit with his fingers,” replied Fleur. “But as for what just happened, that’s just an extremely rare case of your cunt being so high before he even enters you that a single extreme shock to you body sends you flying over the cliff without toppling him over as well. After all, all magic’s a little wishy-washy anyway from a scientific and medical perspective, so in extreme cases something unexpected can happen. And I would wager in this case that if Harry’s tongue had merely swiped over your clit once you probably would have come undone?”

Hermione gave a noncommittal grunt, so before the conversation could continue without any actual sex going on, the whole reason they were out here to begin with, Harry pulled back with a jerk before immediately pounding back into his girlfriend's tight, wet pussy, cutting off anything the bookworm might have been planning on saying. He set up a bruising, punishing pace that would have left a girl of lesser fiber unable to walk for a week, but merely made Hermione mewl like a cat in heat. Needless to say, it took little time at all before they were climbing to their combined peaks, soon toppling into the abyss as Harry unloaded his hot, sticky cum inside her like a volcano, and Hermione squirted like a geyser all over his dick and balls.

When both had come back to themselves, and Harry had slowly extracted himself from Hermione's insides so as not to overstimulate her oversensitive clit, Fleur shoved him onto his back, before swinging around and mounting him like the stud he was before he even knew what was happening.

Happy to let their third half have a round on Harry’s extremely quickly refracting pole while she recovered from back-to-back mind-blowing orgasms (if something that powerful could even still be called merely an orgasm, as transcendental as they had been), Hermione settled deeper into the satin sheets the veela had conjured up to watched the vision of beauty bounce up and down on top of her, Hermione’s, future husband.

Watching the French girl’s large tits fly around her chest without care, Hermione thought back to something she’d thought about frequently over the past few years as her own girls had developed into what they were today.

Occasionally over the past few years she’d wished she had larger breasts, especially as everyone in their year’s breasts had started growing in, and there started becoming a noticeable visual difference between the almost non-existent bumps in the front of her robes, and the large swells many of the other girls were starting to sport in the front of their robes. But even then, she had certainly never envied the honking melons some of the girls had.

Even under the robes she could see them bouncing with every step they took, and with all the running she’d had to do with Harry so far over the first three and a half years of her time here at Hogwarts, she knew if she had breasts like that, they’d be swinging all over the place all the time. And while magic in the robes made it so that all that bouncing wouldn't stretch or in any other way permanently hurt the breasts, prevented chafing, and minimized any pain from the wild bouncing itself, she still felt like it would get highly annoying after a while, as the magical robes _didn’t_ prevent the swinging in the first place. Why magical tailors hadn’t used magic to create sports bra-like reduced motion without any of the actual compression in witches robes Hermione didn’t know, but they hadn’t.

Then again, given the fact that most witches — and wizards, though they didn’t have boobs as an excuse — did as little running or physical exercise of any kind as they possibly could, bouncy tits and supportless robes probably wasn’t too big of a concern for the likes of Millicent Bulstrode, Pansy Parkinson, the Weasley females, and all the other big-titted females. But for her, an active muggleborn girl who understood basic health concepts and had to chase after her best friend to keep him out of trouble, bouncing titties _were_ a notable concern.

But now that she had visibly large breasts looking at her robes, while underneath still having nice, petite ones that only bounced if she was running really hard, she had the best of both worlds — social prestige _and_ comfort. Fleur, on the other hand, didn’t seem to mind her boobs in the least, as she rode Harry with abandon, letting them swing wildly as they pleased. But as for Hermione, watching Fleur’s magnificent tits bounce all over the place, she certainly no longer had any wish at all that her own were any bigger than they were. They might not be quite as good for palming as they would be if they were just slightly larger, but Harry liked them the size they were, and that was plenty for her.

Hermione was drawn back to the present by a long string of French curses flowing out of the veela’s mouth as she reached her peak, taking Harry down with her. Hermione rolled over onto her side to stroke Fleur’s back as the Beauxbatons girl lay collapsed on Harry’s chest, firmly pressing those globes of fleshy goodness that Hermione no longer envied in the least into his chest.


	18. Eggs

“So what about our eggs?” asked Hermione one day in early January.

School had started back after Christmas break, and she and Harry were hanging out with Fleur in the library finishing up their homework for the day.

“Oh, don’t worry, zey put potions in everyone’s food to make sure zere are no pregnancies,” brushed off the French girl.

Hermione just glared at the older girl.

After several seconds, Fleur sighed and rolled her eyes. “I zought it was at least a lettle bit funny. But to answer your question, I was planning on gazzering everyone zis weekend in ‘Ogsmeade to see where everyone was on zere eggs. I already know what ze clue is, I just wanted to give everyone else ze chance to work on it zemselves.” Giving Harry and Hermione a look, Harry of whom was steadily staring at the table looking guilty as hell, she continued, “You two 'aven’t even begun working out what ze clue iz, ‘ave you?”

“We opened the egg a few times,” mumbled Hermione guiltily. “But it’s kind of hard to do when all it does is scream its little eggy head off and you don’t want to annoy the rest of the castle into murdering you in the middle of the night,” she defended. "I mean, the least they could have done was inscribed 'DON'T PANIC' in large friendly letters on the outside.”

“Fair enough, fair enough,” said Fleur. “Zough I did zink a studious bookworm like you might 'ave recognized ze patterns etched into ze sides of ze egg.”

“I thought those were just dragon shell markings,” answered Hermione, confused. “I mean, we’re not exactly encouraged to study dragons around here, and the only real dragon egg I’ve ever seen was when Hagrid illicitly obtained one first year, which I didn’t exactly have the opportunity to study up close, what with it being piping hot in a kettle and all that."

“Zey’re not. And we in France do study dragons, since zey exist,” replied Fleur. “Zen again, we also study sex, which you English do not seem to do.”

“You actually study sex in school?!” asked Harry in a shocked whisper, even though there was no one anywhere near them to overhear. It was just the kind of question you exclaimed in a whisper.

“Oh, yes. Zough it iz fifth year, OWL year, so even if you did ‘ave it ‘ere, you wouldn’t ‘ave gotten zere yet,” answered Fleur, nodding her head.

“You add an extra class during OWL year?” asked Hermione in disbelief.

“Technically, but it iz really more of a stress relief zan an extra class,” replied Fleur. “As long as ‘ou participate, it iz basically impossible to fail, and it provides a mandatory time to unwind, and push studying out ze window for a while. Quite ‘elpful, really. For ze females in ze class it iz also a study in blending in wiz muggles, including zings like learning ‘ow to put on and a wear a bra for all ze girls who ‘ave never been in ze muggle world before and zerefore don’t know what underwear iz, like your Weasley family, for instance. I would wager zis tournament zat zat Ginny girl ‘as never worn a brassiere before in ‘er life, ‘aving worn nothing but witches robes ever since she was leetle.”

Harry and Hermione nodded their agreement at this observation for a second, before Fleur brought them back to the topic at hand.

“But back to ze eggs, I was zinking of ‘aving everyone meet in ze ‘Ogsmeade Shrieking Shack Saturday afternoon, to explain what ze hint iz, away from ze prying ears of any of ze professors.”

~HP~

So Saturday afternoon, the five champions tramped through the snow to the abandoned, haunted, shrieking shack, where Harry blasted the front door off its hinges so they could enter.

Fleur conjured them up four nice, comfy armchairs in what was presumably supposed to be the living room of the house, like werewolf Lupin had cared about a living room, and they all sat down. Fleur, Krum, Cedric, and Harry in a chair apiece, and Hermione in Harry’s lap. Then Fleur pulled out several slips of parchment from her robes.

But before handing them around, she asked, “ ‘As anyone figured out, or been told by one of ze professors, what ze clue of ze screaming egg iz?”

“Mad-Eye told me to open it underwater a week or so before Christmas, but I haven’t gotten around to actually trying it,” answered Cedric. “So I’m clueless and not clued in to what the clue might be.”

“Ze symbols etched in ze outside of ze shells iz mermish,” explained Fleur when no one else spoke up. “Zat’s why it ‘as to be opened underwater, and just sounds like screeching gibberish above ze water.” Passing out the slips of parchment, she continued, “Zis is what ze eggsies say.”

They each took their parchments and read:

_Come seek us where our voices sound,   
_ _We cannot sing above the ground,   
_ _And while you’re searching, ponder this:  
_ _We’ve taken what you'll sorely miss,   
_ _An hour long you'll have to look,   
_ _And to recover what we took,_   
_But past an hour — the prospect's black,   
_ _Too late, it's gone, it won’t come back._

Looking back up at the rest, Hermione said, “Well that’s rather ominous, isn’t it? You fail, and you lose forever something you’ll sorely miss.”

“But the only thing I’d really miss, other than maybe my magic itself, would be a person. My family, Cho, someone like that,” replied Cedric. “I mean, they wouldn’t strip you of your magic or kill someone you love just because you failed to find it in an hour, would they?”

“What would everyone else truly miss?” asked Fleur, realizing he had a point. “Mine would ‘ave to be family as well, wiz magic being ze only non-living zing. But I zink we all have zat as an answer.”

“Family. Harry. You,” answered Hermione.

“Family. Wife,” added Krum.

"Hermione. Crookshanks. You,” finished Harry, causing Hermione to mutter, ‘oh yeah, Crookshanks'. “I mean, I’d kind of miss my firebolt, but I could always buy a new one, so that doesn’t really count. Anything like that could generally be replaced, so it wouldn’t be sorely missed.”

“So we’re down to eizer kidnapping and murder, or ze removal of our magic,” summed up Fleur. “Zis tournament may be dangerous, but it’s only supposed to be dangerous for _us_ , so I can’t believe any of our 'eadmasters would go so far as murder, nor can I imagine any of our Ministries sanctioning it, even if zey are all tyrannies. Zat’s just too blatant for any of zem right now. But I also don’t zink zey can remove our magics, as we still ‘ave to compete in ze third task even if we fail zis one, presumably.”

Everyone just sat around staring at their parchments for several minutes, deep in thought, until Krum finally said, “Maybe they are lying?”

“About?” asked Cedric.

“The not coming back part,” replied Krum. “Maybe that’s just to scare us, and isn’t really true.”

“He’s got a point,” piped up Hermione. “I mean, the mermaid part in what I presume is the Black Lake is simple enough, and having to find something we’ll miss seems likely. And the hour is probably how long we’re supposed to complete the task in to get maximal points, which only leaves 'But past an hour — the prospect's black; Too late, it's gone, it won’t come back’ to be the blatant lie. Now, they’d still have to commit acts of kidnapping, but can any of us _really_ say that that’s beyond what any of our headmasters or Ministries would do?”

Everyone kind of ho-hummed around, none of them capable of giving their respective entities the benefit of the doubt, until Fleur finally put it out in the open.

“Would anyone like to defend zeir teachers or government? Nope? Boldface lie it iz, zen.”

“So where does that leave us?” asked Harry, steering the conversation back to the practical aspect of what they’d have to do in the upcoming Second Task.

“Looks like we’ll have to find people we care about in the middle of the Black Lake,” answered Cedric. “Now who do we all think that would be? To the best of my knowledge my parents haven’t been invited, so that would leave Cho as the most likely victim for me.”

“My wife and family are safe in Bulgaria, and certainly wouldn’t be coming here without a violent struggle, so maybe Lisha, my friend? She’s the blonde you may have seen me studying with in the library. She's the one who introduced me to my wife back in fourth year,” said Krum.

“My sister said she’d been invited to come watch ze second task, which I only found mildly odd when she told me, but now I guess we know why. So I’m going to ‘ave to go wiz my leetle sister, Gabrielle,” contributed Fleur.

"There’s no way they’d bring my muggle parents to the castle, and with myself, Harry, and Fleur all in the tournament and Harry having no family thanks to Voldypants, all I see left is Crookshanks. Though they might be stupid enough to think we’re still friends with Ronald Weasley to use him, in which case I think we should just leave him down their to force their hand,” finished Hermione for both Harry and herself.

“Anyone else think we should do this one together, just to make sure the people we care about are all safe, and just as a general screw you to everyone involved in the tournament that thought kidnapping was a good idea?” asked Krum. “I know this is supposed to be a competition between the three of us, but this seems to be taking it just a bit too far to me. I’d be happy to help anyone who wanted to join with me, and we all just get the same number of points for this task.”

There was an immediate outpouring of agreement from the other four, more than happy to screw a task that included kidnapping and possible murder (though only Harry, Hermione, and Fleur would actually be screwing after the second task — well, with each other, anyway. Who knew what kind of kinky stuff Cedric and Cho were into).

“But ‘ow will we know where to go?” asked Fleur.

“We might have a way to help with,” replied Harry. “Possibly, at least. I’m not positive.”

Then pulling out the Marauder’s map, he uttered, "Snape is a murderer," and the map expanded, covering the floor. Everyone crowded around to look at the drawing of the Black Lake, that now had the mercolony drawn in the middle of it. Reaching down, Fleur surprised them all by pinching out on the Black Lake, causing the map to zoom in. Far more detail was now visible about the Black Lake, now that it was three feet wide, instead of three inches.

“I didn’t know it would do that!” exclaimed Hermione, staring at the French girl.

“Standard magical map practice, my dear. Now, zere!” she said with a flourish, pointing at the mercapitol. “We will probably start over ‘ere near ze castle, and ze mercolony is nearly in ze dead middle, obviously at ze very bottom. So we swim out to ze middle, and zen straight down.”


	19. The Night Before

The evening before the second task, Harry and Hermione didn’t see Ron anywhere around as they sat and lay on the couch by the fire, Harry stroking Hermione like normal.

In fact, they couldn’t recall seeing him since they’d left supper several hours earlier, making it seem extremely likely that he was in fact their victim, and proving that the adults had absolutely no clue what was going on in their castle. Not that either of them were particularly concerned, as if there was one person in the world Dumbles couldn’t let die, ever, it would be one of Matriarch Weasley’s offspring. She might have clearly wished for a daughter instead of Ron, but she still wouldn’t let the world hear the end of it if any of her perfect children were harmed in any way. If people considered Voldypants to be one scary dude, Molly was the monster who lived under _his_ bed.

Having perfected the Silence Bubble Charm and Straight Face Charm over Christmas break, which respectively put a bubble of silence over Hermione’s tongue and made her face look like she was simply reading and not screaming, panting, and groaning in orgasmic pleasure, Harry could now freely finger fuck Hermione as hard and long as he pleased as they sat in the Gryffindor common room reading and having orgasms respectively, without anyone ever being any the wiser. Which he was fervently doing, feeling Hermione’s fifth orgasm of the night wreck her body as her walls clamped down on the three fingers he had stuffed inside her. As the flutterings began to subside, one of Hermione’s arms grabbed his arm, as the other dropped her book on her stomach and reached for her wand, silently casting the countercharm to the silencing charm.

“Enough. If you want anything tonight, you have to let me rest,” she panted in a whisper, her voice hoarse from all her silent screams of the evening.

Harry nodded, slowly pulling his fingers out of her wrecked vagina, trying his hardest not to brush up against her oversensitive clitoris. Once his fingers were all the way out, and resting lightly on her thigh drawing complicated wand motions on her skin in her juices that covered his fingers, Hermione cast the countercharm to the Straight Face Charm as well.

“So it looks like Ron’s probably our victim tomorrow, since Crookshanks is asleep between your feet, and we haven’t seen the git all evening.”

Hermione nodded, still not quite trusting her voice yet to hold a conversation. Harry leaned over and grabbed a butterbeer out of his bag, and handed it to her.

Taking a long draught, she finally replied, “Still sticking to our plan of leaving him tied up at the bottom of the lake?”

“Don't see any reason not to,” shrugged Harry. “The clue said we have an hour to recover what they took from us, and they certainly didn’t take Ron from _us_. Not our fault if they failed to actually take something we’d sorely miss."

Hermione smiled, a smile only capable after having been thoroughly fucked for an hour straight.

“Let me read for a while and recover, and then we can head up to bed?” she asked.

Harry gave her a nod and a smile, happy with the plan. But they hadn’t resumed their reading for more than five minutes when Sally-Anne and Lavender walked over to them, something clearly on their minds.

“Hi, girls. Can we help you?” asked Hermione.

The two blondes looked at each other nervously, causing Harry to joke, “We don’t bite.”

“ _She_ might,” replied Sally, nodding towards Hermione. As Hermione raised an eyebrow in response, their dormmate went on, “Coming from magical families ourselves, it wasn’t too hard to pick up that Harry’s been fingering you over here on the couch every night for the past several months. Don’t worry, no one else in here has a clue, we just happened to catch Hermione’s face on one of your first nights with the Straight Face Charm since we always sit right over there and have a clear view of you two, so we guessed what was happening and could pick up on all the subtle hints we’d seen before that and since then — but there’s no way anyone else has been paying enough attention to have noticed anything.”

“Quite honestly, you're some of the best at it we’ve ever seen,” interjected Lavender.

“But what we were wondering is,” resumed Sally, “is there any possible way we could get in? And this is the part where your future wife bites us, and not the pleasant kind.”

As Harry looked at the pair in shock, both over the fact that they knew his and Hermione’s secret, and that they would ask if they could take turns in the going-ons, Hermione looked at them thoughtfully.

“The biggest concern here, I think, is you laying on Harry’s lap without anyone thinking it completely out of the ordinary and starting to ask questions,” she said after a several seconds. “The act itself is fine by me — I’ve honestly been surprised you haven’t come asking to take his cock for a spin yet as many times as you have to see it waving around at full mast in our dorm room. And Harry here needs something to keep his fingers busy as he reads, and I can only take so many orgasms if I still want to be able to take his cock inside me before we go to bed. So it sounds like a good plan to me. We just have to figure out how to do it without raising suspicion.”

Sally and Lavender nodded enthusiastically, as Harry looked over at Hermione in surprise at her liberalness of lending out his magic fingers. Hermione merely shrugged back at him. Taking that to mean she really didn’t have a problem with it, and wasn’t just trying to be nice to their dormmates for letting Harry live there with them, Harry looked around at their couch to see if he could come up with any good ideas.

“It’s not something we’ve ever done before, but it shouldn’t come as too big of a shift…” he said slowly mostly to himself, but all three girls’ attentions immediately shifting to him anyway. “But if we all four sat on the couch together, three sitting and one laying, we could rotate who was on the receiving end, and it would hopefully just look like we’d all started studying together, being dormmates, and all.”

Hermione immediately sat up, causing Crookshanks to jump down off the couch disgruntily, before motioning to Lavender to take the spot on the other side of Harry. It was a cozy fit, but they could comfortably make it, and given what exactly they were going to be doing, coziness wasn’t exactly a deal breaker.

Looking to make sure they looked like a reasonable enough study group, Hermione looked back up at Sally and said, “Go grab books for you and Lavender, and come back and lay down. This should work fine, and everyone will just think you two came over here to ask if you could study with us.”

Sally quickly did as Hermione asked, handing Lavender her book before laying down on her back across the other three’s legs. Lavender made sure Sally’s robes were properly covering her legs on top as Hermione stroked Sally’s blonde hair, and Harry used his wand that was still in his lap to cast the back of robe removal charm. Instantly, the back of everything from the waist down was completely bare. Sally shivered slightly at the shock of feeling her entire backside being naked against the fabric of Harry and Lavender’s robes, along with Harry’s hand resting lightly on the bare skin of her thigh.

She lifted her head slightly to look down her body, causing Hermione to chuckle lightly and say, “You look completely decent. Quite the rush though, isn’t it? My first orgasms like this were quite powerful feeling like I was having public-sex even though no one had a clue — well, other than you two, apparently.”

Sally nodded, as Hermione casually palmed Sally’s clothed left boob, taking Sally’s right hand and placing it on top of her right boob, so they’d both be able to knead her breasts lightly during the ensuing activities. Then books were soon held so no one could see anything from any direction.

“You’re completely covered, unless someone happened to look straight down on top of us, which the only ones who might possibly do that are the twins, and let’s be honest, that’s fine,” said Hermione reassuringly. “Now relax, and I’ll cast the Silence Bubble Charm and Straight Face Charm. If you need to speak, just tap my stomach with the hand on your breast, and I’ll remove the charm.”

At Sally’s nod, Hermione cast the charms, and Harry’s fingers slid across her thigh up to slide across her sensitive lips. He started out slow, wanting to leave her pussy in as good a condition as he found it, just more pleasured. But wetness clearly wasn’t going to be a problem, as his fingers slipped into her quite easily, her juices coating him. He set up a steady pace, soon adding a second finger. His thumb gathered up some of her juices before lathering its attention on her clit, causing her to fall apart in seconds. He continued to pump in and out of her slowly pushing her though, before removing his thumb as she came down from her high. But he kept a steady thrusting with his fingers, squeezing in a third while her walls were relaxed from her first orgasm. In no time she was building back up to a second orgasm, even bigger than the first one.

Harry brought Sally to two more orgasms after that before she switched places with Lavender, who received four mind-blowing finger fucks of her own. As a completely boneless Lavender lay stretched out across their laps, the silencing charm removed but Lav still far too out of breath to be able to say anything, Sally asked, “So are you two ready for your task tomorrow?”

“We have a plan,” replied Hermione with a smile. “The adults are going to hate it, but it should be just as exciting as it would be otherwise for the crowds — which is to say not at all, since you guys are going to have to sit in the stands by the lake for an hour, freezing cold, without being able to see a single thing that’s happening under the water. I have no idea how they thought this task of the tournament was going to be anything but miserable for everyone, but I truly am sorry. I hope you know your warming charms well, and bring a book to read.”

As it was getting late, and Lavender was finally able to stand on her own two legs again, they all headed up to their dorm room, and beds. They all showered off together under two adjacent shower heads in the open bathroom, before Harry and Hermione climbed into their bed and went three rounds before collapsing to the sheets, falling asleep nearly instantly.


	20. Second Task

The following morning, Harry and Hermione woke up at their normal early hour, and after Harry pumping her full of his cum and her inner walls squeezing the life out of his dick their normal three times, they showered and headed down to breakfast.

After a leisurely breakfast, they walked down to the Black Lake with Fleur, Krum, and Cedric at around eight-thirty, taking a leisurely stroll down the banks of the lake to kill time and just generally enjoy each other’s pleasant company, before making it back to the gold-draped judges’ table at the water's edge by nine-fifteen. All five judges were there, glaring disapprovingly at them for only being fifteen minutes early, but none more so than Percy Weasley, who for unknown and uncared reasons was sitting in Señor Crouchy’s chair. Unbeknownst to any of them, as they’d all been at the Twins’ Not A Yule Ball instead of at the Hogwarts Yule Ball, this was actually the second time Mr Percy had usurped Señor Crouchy’s chair. But as mentioned before, none of them gave a powdered rat’s spleen.

Despite the judges disapproval that they weren’t there earlier, there were no instructions to give this time around, so everyone just stood around awkwardly for fifteen minutes, until Ludicrous Bagyman finally stood up to address the crowd and tell them just how boring this task was going to be for them, though in substantially more flowery phrases.

At the sound of the whistle a few minutes later, Harry and Hermione casually waved their wands willy-nilly, conjuring a self-propelled, self-stabilizing rowboat in the shallows, which they all leisurely climbed into, Harry making sure to help both the girls into the boat by planting his hands firmly on their arses as they climbed in. Once they were all in and comfortably seated on plush cushions (Fleur’s touch, along with a parasol for herself, because — French), Krum set the boat into motion, steering it out to the center of the lake.

Once they’d arrived above where they thought the mercity was located, Krum brought the boat to a halt, and Cedric cast an anchor charm to keep the boat from moving, should the giant squid come frolicking by and decide to have a little fun. Then he stuck his wand in the hole in the middle of the boat, casting a beam of light straight down to the bottom, so they’d know where they’d parked their aquatic vehicle for the return trip to the surface.

All nodding to one another, they simultaneously pulled off their robes, as the one thing magical robes weren’t good at (besides all the other things they weren’t much good at either, like self-propelled flight, deflecting killing charms, and serving as a decent sports bra when running for the females) was being wet. Rain was okay, swimming not so much. Once stark naked, Fleur cast bubblehead charms on each of them so they could breathe, and warming charms on their naked bodies since they were about to jump into a Scottish lake in February, and then they jumped into said Scottish lake in February.

They quickly sunk to the bottom — disproving once and for all the medieval witch-hunters belief that witches were made of wood and therefore floated, like churches and very small rocks — right into the middle of mertown square. At the far end, despite being so far underwater that light shouldn’t have been able to penetrate to that depth, they saw a giant merstatue of a giant merking, so exquisite that it made the Mona Lisa look like it’d been drawn by a two year old Leo out of crayons, and they swam over. For tied with thick, slimy, very strong seaweed onto the tail of the work of art were four distinctly non-mer figures — the victims of this cruel task.

The four kidnapees were all as naked as the five champions, for like every witch and wizard knew, it was pure ludicrousity to go into water with your robes on. The only exception was that Ron — for he was in fact one of the four prisoners — had seaweed tied around his waist, as apparently the mers had grown tired of seeing his tiny pecker drifting to and fro in the ebb of the water. All four of the victims’ eyes were open, clearly able to see what was going on around them even though they were frozen and didn’t need to breathe.

Fleur set to work chewing through the seaweed binds with her veela teeth, quickly having the three female kidnapping victims free. Resting them on top of one another, Fleur, Hermione, Cedric, and Krum each took hold of a foot or shoulder of the girl on bottom, Krum’s friend Lisha, and began swimming straight up to their waiting boat. Harry, meanwhile, swam underneath the sandwich of girls and pushed up from the middle, his hands firmly on the Bulgarian girl’s tight bum, to provide support in the middle. With five champions, three of whom were men, swimming three smaller females up through the water, they made quick work of it, and following the beam of light, they quickly arrived back at the underside of the boat.

To make sure none of the judges could tell who had arrived at the top first, before they’d hopped into the water on their daring rescue mission into enemy territory, they had transfigured an underwater airlock onto the bottom of the boat. Swimming in, they returned all the victims to standing positions, and Fleur hit the big red button to drain the water out. As soon as the water level was below each of the victims' heads, they began breathing again, and the bubble charms the heroic rescuers had used disappeared as well.

Gabrielle collapsed into Fleur’s arms, as Cho did likewise with Cedric. Krum and Lisha merely hugged tightly before breaking apart, and not wanting to be left out, Harry and Hermione kissed deeply. Once everyone was sure everyone else was okay, and no lasting harm had been inflicted by the kidnapping, they climbed the stairs up to the water-level floor of their boat, where the five champions' robes were awaiting them.

They had also enclosed this portion of the boat, so if someone did happen to take a boat of their own out to the champions’ boat, or else had a really nice pair of binoculars, they wouldn’t be able to see the victims’ nakedness before the champions could conjure them blankets to wear. It was one thing if someone happened to be able to make out any of the champions’ nakedness before they’d jumped into the water, but it was entirely inappropriate to subject the kidnapping victims to that — they’d been through more than enough trauma already.

But before any robes were put back on or blankets conjured, quick drying and warming charms were cast, so they wouldn’t be wet or cold for no good reason. Finally all comfortable and presentable, the five champions untransfigured the lower level of the boat and the enclosure of the top level, and they set off across the water back to the judges’ table, five champions and three kidnapping victims all together as one big happy family.

Running the boat up onto the dry ground, they all climbed out, arriving back with all the things they’d sorely miss in less than half the amount of time they’d been allotted.

“Task completed,” trilled Fleur once all eight of them were standing on dry ground before the judges’ table.

“But what about the fourth hostage?” asked Dumbles, clearly confused as to why there were only three rescued detainees, and not four. “Harry and Hermione’s hostage, Ron Weasley. Did something happen to him?”

“The task was to rescue something we’d sorely miss,” replied Hermione politely. “There was no one down there Harry or I would miss, sorely or otherwise, and we assumed everything taken from us would be in the same place, since the other three’s sorely missed objects were all there.”

Harry nodded along seriously with everything Hermione said.

Realizing he clearly wasn’t going to get anywhere by pointing out that Harry and Hermione were clearly to the most casual observer supposed to have rescued Ron, along with the fact that it didn’t really matter all that much anyway since they were going to receive scores of zero no matter what, Dumbles simply nodded mutely, before gathering the other four judges to discuss the much greater problem of the fact that all five champions had clearly worked together during this task, and they had no way to assign points, the entire purpose of these first two tasks. It didn’t matter if they gave them all perfect scores for rescuing their hostages well under the allotted time requirement, or zero points for working together like they weren’t supposed to, the end result was still the same. The only real difference was how long of a gap there would be between the three champions entering the maze and Harry and Hermione entering, but since they were the only ones who actually knew the rules and how long the time gap was supposed to be based on how many points behind they were, they could just make up whatever they wanted when the time came.

Coming to an agreement on the points debacle, Dumbles finally remembered that the Weasley boy was still under the water, tied to Leonardo da Vinci’s only known work for merpeople. Walking over to the water, he screeched with the merchieftainess for several minutes, before Murcus dove back into the water.

Straightening back up, he _Sonorous’_ ed his voice and said to the eagerly awaiting crowd, “While the champions all returned well under the time without any problems, they did violate the rule stating that they couldn’t work together, so we have decided to split the difference and give them twenty-five points apiece. Harry and Hermione, of course, will be receiving their normal zero points. Now, everyone is dismissed. Go warm up and party!”

But at that moment, there was a shout from someone in the crowd. Looking where they were pointing, everyone saw something bobbing up and down in the very center of the lake, and quickly realized that it must be Ron, the fourth victim. Instead of bringing him to the shore, the merchieftainess had apparently just released him straight up from the mercity, trusting (or not) that he could make his own way back to the shore.

Slowly, the redhead doggy-paddled himself towards the shore, everyone staring at him. It was like watching a train wreck one just couldn’t look away from — that, and he was obviously naked, which meant his diminutive wiener was bound to make an appearance for the second straight task. Eventually, the youngest peckered Weasley made it to shore, climbing out like a soggy wet dog, a vicious scowl etched across his face.

Taking his proffered robes from his brother, Judge Percy, he didn’t even bother throwing them on before grabbing his wand from inside a pocket and starting to wildly cast curses and hexes and spells at the five champions for leaving him there at the bottom of the Black Lake. Fortunately, Krum had seen the look on the boy’s face and knew what was coming, and so had thrown up a simple shield charm around the five of them and their victims who were still standing there with them, causing the few spells that actually came into their general vicinity to bounce away harmlessly.

But before the teachers had time to even start reacting, Ron was suddenly plucked off the bank by one of the Giant Squid’s long tentacles, and pulled back over the water, and held several feet above the surface of the lake. One of the squid’s other slimy tentacles then slid smoothly into Ron’s butthole with ease, as everyone stared in shock at the scene. Perhaps it was just the fact that the tentacle was rather pliable and very well lubed with slime, but it seemed much more likely this wasn’t Ron’s first experience taking one up the arse. Finally, a third tentacle reached around and wrapped itself around the redhead’s small, hard dick and began jerking him off. Five strokes later he came, a few sticky ropes of white cum spurting up into the air. The giant squid then tossed him back into the shallows near the bank, before slipping back under the water with barely a ripple.

Ron had scarcely climbed back onto dry ground when Professor McG grabbed him by the ear and drug him in front of the stands where everyone sat frozen in shock at everything that had just happened.

“Once again, Ronald Weasley has made a complete arse of himself, trying to hex the five champions and their hostages. And while the squid has given him some punishment of his own, I will once again be writing to this boy’s mother, along with giving him a month’s worth of detention cleaning the castle in the evenings muggle-style with Filch,” shouted Professor McG, before dragging Ron once again off to see Mr Filch.

As everyone else dissipated back up to the castle or their carriage or boat to celebrate, Fleur pulled Harry and Hermione to the side.

“I believe I promised we could start having fun tonight, didn’t I?” she said. “How does Harry’s arse look like it’s coming along? As willing as that Ronald boy’s?”

“I doubt it’s _that_ accepting, but I think it’s good enough to start the next stage,” replied Hermione with a slight smirk.

“Then I shall see you again tonight, my carriage.”


	21. Second Reward, Second Punishment

At nine o’clock that evening, Harry and Hermione stepped inside the Beauxbatons carriage for the second time in their lives, and followed Fleur back to her room again.

Once in her spacious bedroom and the door securely locked behind them, they all quickly rid themselves of their robes so they could get down to work. Walking over to her dresser, Fleur picked up a long piece of plastic, that looked vaguely penis shaped on both ends, and had a sharp bend in the middle. Walking back over to the other two, who had seated themselves on the edge of her bed, she stood in front of them holding up the object.

“Zis iz ze double-ended magical dildo we will be using. It may not look like much now, but zat’s ze joy of magic,” she began. “One end will go in ‘Ermione’s vagina, and be a perfect replica of ‘Arry's magnificent penis. Zen zere’s ze bit zat attaches to ‘Ermione’s clit, to make sure she ‘as plenty of stimulation. Finally, ze ozzer end will go up ‘Arry’s arse. Zat end will be fairly small to start, zough certainly bigger zan Ronald’s pecker, and over ze rest of ze school year, will steadily be increased in size until it iz also a perfect replica of ‘Arry’s giant cock of glory.

“Now to get ‘Ermione’s side sized up, I will just touch ze tip of my wand to ‘Arry’s engorged penis like zis, and zen touch ze strap-on. And voilà! ‘Ermione’s good to go. And now, I zink ‘Arry’s end should be about — so,” she continued, tapping the other end with her wand, making it resemble a much smaller, completely smooth penis.

“Now ze best zing about zis magical dildo is zat it uses Hermione’s extra juices around ze part inside ‘er to continuously lubricate ze ‘alf zat goes into ‘Arry. Additionally, when you come, ‘Ermione, it will ejaculate all of your girl cum through ze tip into 'Arry’s arse, while a magical spell on ze tip of ‘Arry’s real cock will send all of 'is cum squirting through ze ‘alf in you into your cunt like normal. And it will of course occur at ze same time, since anal penetration connects your magical cores ze same as vaginal penetration does, so you’ll come togezzer like normal.”

“Alright then, let’s get this party started!” said Hermione excitedly, reaching out for the strap-on, but Fleur pulled it back out of her reach.

“Nope, not yet, you eager little butt fucker,” she chuckled. “First, ‘Arry fucks you good and hard with ze real thing, _zen_ we move on to ze fake one. And I zink since you’ll be taking ‘Arry doggy style, you should _take_ him doggy style as well.”

Hermione scrambled with haste onto her hands and knees, wiggling her bum in the air for all to see. Her snatch was already dribbling juices down her widely spread thighs, just waiting to be skewered like a good little pussy. So Harry obediently stood up, and did just that without warning. The moans coming out of Hermione’s mouth could have made an asexual robot cum just from hearing her, and it was mere minutes before they were tumbling over the edge together, Harry pumping her full of his cum as her walls milked him dry.

Once Harry had pulled out of her, his cum oozing out of her opening as she flexed her inner muscles, Fleur said, “Now’s when we get to start ‘aving fun. ‘Arry, sit up on ze pillows at ze ‘ead of ze bed for ze moment. And ‘Ermione, stand in front of me, facing towards ‘Arry to give ‘im a good view.”

The two Gryffindors scrambled to do as commanded, excited for what would come next.

“Alright, spread your legs slightly, ‘Ermione,” instructed the veela, spreading the younger girl’s legs out a few feet so her pussy was on complete display where she stood. Then Fleur rubbed the replica of Harry through Hermione’s lips, gathering up all the juices and combined cum from where Harry had just fucked her good. Then she slowly, torturously, pushed Harry’s cock up into Hermione’s vagina, causing both Hermione and Harry to moan at the sight (and just maybe Fleur as well). Harry couldn’t think of anything he’d ever seen as hot as seeing his own dick disappearing between Hermione’s legs while he watched.

Once it was fully seated, Hermione swung her hips experimentally, causing the dick protruding out from between her legs to swing slightly, making it look very much like she had a real dick, albeit a smooth, white plastic one.

“Now, ‘Ermione darling, you’re going to fuck _my_ pretty little cunt a few times to get used to ze motion and make sure it’s all well lubed up, before you get to work on ‘Arry’s arsehole.”

Fleur then scrambled onto the bed next to Harry, spreading her legs wide to display her pretty pink pussy. Harry shifted down slightly so he’d be able to rub the French girl’s clit, while resting his other hand on her breast to pinch and twist her nipple. Hermione climbed between Fleur’s legs, resting the head of her new limb against the other girl’s lips. Then she slowly pushed in, the small dick sliding home easily with as wet as Fleur was from watching Harry bang Hermione from behind a few minutes earlier.

Fleur hadn’t expected to actually come from a dick that small, but between Harry’s clever fingers on her nipple and clit, and Hermione’s previously unknown skill at wielding a cock, she soon found herself building to the edge. Kneading her other breast roughly with her own hand, she soon toppled into oblivion, moaning filthily in her release.

Coming down from her high, she smiled seductively at the pair of them, before saying, “ ‘Arry — your turn!”

Without having to be instructed, Harry scrambled onto his elbows and knees on the foot of the bed, his tushy sticking high up into the air. Fleur stood up and swatted it a few times, before pulling testingly on the end of the buttplug she’d given him after the first task. To her great surprise, it slid out with little resistance.

“Well done, ‘Arry and ‘Ermione! You’ve clearly been enthusiastic wiz ze buttplug sex,” she said delightedly as she saw how open Harry’s hole remained for her when she pulled it all the way out, and how easily the toy slid back in and out as she lightly fucked him with the toy. “Perhaps we could ‘ave started wiz a dick a little larger, but no matter — it iz always better to start a little too small zan to stretch you painfully ze first time.”

Reaching between her legs, she lubed up her fingers, before pressing one of them deep inside Harry’s bum. After a few strokes she added a second one, covering his hole in her juices. Pulling out, she motioned for Hermione to take her place with the real deal. Hermione stepped up behind her boyfriend, lightly rubbing her hands over his rear, before positioning her tip at Harry’s entrance, and grabbing his hips firmly.

Then she slowly slid into him.

If the noises Harry had made the first time a buttplug had been stuck inside him had been orgasmic, Fleur didn’t know what to call the sounds coming out of his mouth now. He clearly really was a buttslut.

As Hermione set up a slow, steady pace pumping in and out of his arse, Fleur climbed onto the bed in front of Harry, spreading her core out in front of him. He immediately lowered his head to her waiting cunt, tongue delving right in. When Fleur could feel she was about to come, she panted out, “ ‘Ermione! Stroke ‘im like ze dirty slut ‘e is!”

Hermione’s hand reached around and wrapped around his aching cock, stroking it hard as she increased her pace on his arsehole. Within a few short strokes Harry was shuddering his release, the groan he let out into Fleur’s vagina setting her off too, as Hermione’s wall’s clinched around the replica of Harry inside her. Fleur squirted all over Harry’s face, Harry’s cum pumped into Hermione’s vagina, and Hermione’s cum squirted deep into Harry’s arse, filling him up up completely.

Extracting themselves wearily from one another, they collapsed together in a heap on the bed, falling asleep nearly instantly, completely spent.

~HP~

The following morning, Harry, Hermione, and Fleur sorely made their way into the Great Hall for breakfast.

After waking back up, they had stayed up until nearly one in the morning taking turns fucking each other. Harry had taken it up the arse two more times, and Fleur had even had Harry and Hermione double penetrate her vagina once, much to Hermione’s astonishment. Afterwards, Fleur explained that veela anatomy allowed her walls to expand to accept much larger packages than normal, while still remaining tight the rest of the time.

But all that exertion, combined with a less than normal amount of sleep and several more rounds when they’d woken up that morning, left them all yawning deeply and more than a little sore as they sat down gingerly at the Gryffindor table for breakfast slightly later than they normally would have.

So it wasn’t very long before the post owls swooped in, delivering Hermione her daily copy of the Daily Prophet. To their little surprise, the front page of the Prophet had little to do with the TriWizard tournament itself, and was instead covered by a photo (or five) of Ron getting fucked by the giant squid, and a highly detailed report to go along with. Rita’s description of the actual tournament was just a small blurb on page five, stuck between an article on trimming your kneazle’s claws, and an advertisement for magical nail polish (which could in theory be used on your kneazle’s freshly trimmed claws, though kneazles are not renowned for liking having their claws painted).

Meanwhile, down the table, as Harry, Hermione, and Fleur were reading all about Ron’s little mishap, Ginny was opening a letter from her mum.

_Dear Pretty Perfect Princess Ginevra,_

_I heard from both Percy, along with reading an early copy of this morning’s estimable Daily Prophet that your father obediently brought home last night, that your youngest penised sibling made an arse of himself again at the second task yesterday morning. Clearly the last punishment didn’t work, so you’re going to have to step it up this time._

_I think perhaps reaming him in front of the entire Gryffindor common room might perhaps teach him the lesson that riding his cock without letting him have any relief didn’t. So find a day when the common room is crowded, bend him over a couch and pull his robes up over his arse, and use your double-sided strap-on cock to fuck his arsehole on full display of everyone. Admittedly, this will require you being naked in front of the entire common room, but you are a beautiful, young, nubile girl, and this may help you obtain some new viable men to provide for your vagina while you wait on the Boy-Who-Lived to finally get his head out of his own arse and realize you’re standing right in front of him waiting on him._

_Included is a potion that should make it easier for you to manhandle your brother and keep him from trying to squirm away._

_Much love, your kind and awesome mother,_

_Mrs Molly Weasley_

Ginny smiled to herself, stuffing the letter back into its envelope. Ron might not like his private bits showing (no matter how many times he'd made sure they were on display so far that year), and her perfect mother might think she’d prefer not letting the castle see her natural beauty, but _she_ had absolutely no hesitations in taking her robes off in front of everyone. She’d strip and take deep every boy in Gryffindor’s cock on a table right in the middle of the Gryffindor common room if she wasn’t afraid the Know-It-All Bookworm would go squeal to Prof McG. And now that she had a sanctioned opportunity to disrobe, she was certainly going to make the most of it.

~HP~

If Ron thought that he was going to get by without a punishment from his mother simply because he didn’t receive one the first few days after the second task, he was sorely mistaken.

Very, very sore.

Though he really should have known better, as it had been four days after the first task that he’d received his first punishment. But when Thursday passed without even a Howler from his mum, his simpleton brain assured him he was completely in the clear, and by Saturday afternoon, he’d completely forgotten all about it.

Being late February, the weather was a constant torrential downpour, so Saturday afternoon found almost every single Gryffindor hanging out in the Gryffindor common room. Ron was playing a vicious game of wizarding chess against himself, and losing badly, making him steadily grumpier and grumpier. The twins were working on their joke shop. And Harry, Hermione, Sally, and Lavender were brainstorming new and more unusual ways to off their abusive Potions ‘professor’ without getting caught.

When suddenly out of the blue, Ginny Weasley came bursting down the girl’s dormitory stairs and into the middle of the common room, shouting, “Ronald Bilius Weasley! Time for your punishment from mum for your behavior at the second task!”

The room went instantly quiet, everyone turning to stare. Striding over to where Ron was sitting, the only person not giving all their attention to her at this point, she dumped a small vial of something green over his head, before grabbing his ear and forcefully dragging him into the center of the room, where everyone had cleared out from giving her a wide open spot. Still holding onto Ron’s ear, she pulled out her wand and _Wingardium Leviosa_ ’d the table Harry, Hermione, Lavender, and Sally were sitting around into the middle of the room next to her, and face-planted her brother on it. Then everyone watched in morbid fascination as she hitched Ron’s robes up on his back, exposing his bare rear. Unable to tear their eyes away, they continued to watch as the Weasley girl pulled a double-sided dildo out of her robes and set it down on the table next to her brother’s head, before pulling her own robes up over her head and off, leaving her standing stark naked in the middle of the Gryffindor common room.

Walking around to the side of the table with Ron’s mouth on it, she grabbed his curly hair and lifted his head up off the table slightly, before grabbing the phallic toy with her other hand and wiggling the tip of it between his lips.

“Make sure it’s good and lubricated with your spit, because that’s all the lubrication you’re getting,” smirked Ginny as she shoved the cock down her brother’s throat as soon as he opened his mouth to protest.

Ron handled the rough deepthroating surprisingly well, only gagging about half the time as Ginny fucked his face with her toy. Once she thought it was spit-shined enough, or else just grew tired of shoving her cock down his throat instead of somewhere tighter, Ginny pulled it out and walked back around to Ron’s backside. Running the clean end of her pleasure device through her dripping lower lips, she shoved it up into her cunt, letting out a low moan. Then she position the other end at the entrance of Ron’s tight hole, and rammed in hard.

Ron let out a piercing girly scream, collapsing more fully against the table. As Ginny continued reaming him thoroughly, his groans turned into moans, until eventually those watching the scene from a position behind Ginny and Ron saw Ron’s untouched penis splatter his robes with cum. But if anyone thought that was going to be the end of it, they were greatly mistaken.

Ginny continued to pound into him for the next hour, only pausing briefly each time the half stuffed in her snatch brought her to her own orgasm. Ron’s pecker went off twice more unprovoked in the first half hour, but after that, he clearly wasn’t enjoying it anymore and he didn’t come again. His moans and mewls turned first into groans, and then cries and screams, and finally he wasn’t making any noises at all, his mouth just frozen open in one long silent scream as his sister wore the skin of his anus raw.

Finally after an hour, Ginny collapsed onto his back from her sixth orgasm, and after collecting herself, pulled out. The previously white replica penis was now dripping a mixture of blood and Ginny’s own cum, which after pulling the other end out of herself, she smeared onto his back to clean it off before sticking it back in her robes. Roughly throwing his robes back over his bottom, she carelessly said, “You should really go visit Madam P for that bleed,” before grabbing her robes off the table and striding across the room and disappearing up the girls’ stairs, still naked.

Several minutes later, Ron finally pushed himself up from the table with many pained grimaces, and hobbled to the portrait hole. Once he had disappeared through and the portrait had closed back behind him, the room returned to its normal hubbub, a couple seventh years graciously pushing the table back over to Harry, Hermione, Sally, and Lavender, after they’d cast thorough cleansing charms on it.


	22. Dark Marks and Thrown Girls

A week and a half after the second task, Harry and Hermione were in the middle of yet another Friday afternoon of suffering through Snape’s child abuse — better known as Double Potions with the Slytherins. It was not a class one trifled with, be ye student or adult, but midway through Durmstrang headmaster Karka came bursting through the door, striding over to where Snape sat scowling at the Gryffindor half of the class from his desk.

“Snape!” Karka hissed. “The secret sign, that for some reason wasn’t spread as wide and far as it could amongst the wizarding community after several of us returned and could warn the powers of good-ish that be, since that would make far too much common sense, something we all know the wizarding world sorely lacks any of, has returned clearer than ever. Which undoubtedly means the head honcho is regaining power and coming back. We need to warn everyone so they’ll be prepared."

“Hush Karka, don’t be so hasty,” growled Snape. "That would require us momentarily looking bad. And we can’t have that, even if it means people dying unnecessarily and we _would_ eventually look good at the end of it. Because we’d have to look bad for a little while, and that’s completely unacceptable.”

“But there are lives at stake here!” exclaimed Karka in a whisper. “Shouldn’t that overrule any minor social status suffering we might incur because of it?"

"That’s not what we do here,” whispered back Snape harshly. "We’re too proud and refuse to admit that we caused, and still cause, large numbers of people great amounts of pain and suffering, so we have to keep this obvious return of evil a secret to protect our fragile egos, instead of admitting we used to be bad and owning up to it and warning the world of this obviously upcoming reign of terror. Someone could temporarily have a negative opinion of us if we admitted our previous sins while using our knowledge to try to help save lives.”

“People already have a negative opinion of you,” spat Karka. "Every student you didn’t favor that’s had to pass through this class hates your guts and wants you dead. And honestly, from the stories of abuse I’ve heard, they’re completely justified. You just happen to be Dumbles favorite pet, so no one can do anything about it. “

“Yes, well, I refuse to admit that, just like I refuse to admit that everything bad in my life is my own fault, and not the Potters' fault, or Longbottom’s fault, or _His_ fault, or anyone beside myself’s fault,” snarled Snape. "As long as I keep blaming everyone else for my own sins I can wallow in misery peacefully, instead of painfully owning up to my own sins and possibly finding real peace and later happiness on the other side. Now get out of here, and never let me catch you talking about this again. The rest of the world can suck my dick and go screw themselves."

Karka stormed out of the room, clearly not happy about Snape’s dismissal of his concerns.

While everyone had been pretending to still be working on their potions while really eavesdropping on the two adults’ cryptic conversation, they all began working in earnest again as soon as Karka had stomped off, not wanting to be on the receiving end of Snape’s wrath.

As they ascended the stairs back to the Entrance Hall after the bell had finally rung, Harry asked, “What was that all about?”

“Well — and I’m just spitballing here — but I’d say there’s something they both know that is proving that Voldypants is returning and growing stronger, but admitting that they have that secret information would require them admitting to the whole world that they have ties and inside knowledge with Voldypants, which Snape is unwilling to do because it might make him look bad to a few people, and he’s so deluded that he thinks he doesn’t currently look like evil incarnate to everyone who actually knows him or has had to suffer under his ’teaching’,” replied Hermione with a shrug. “But like I said — just a wild guess.”

~HP~

They didn’t think much more about Karka and Snape’s discussion, as there was nothing they could actually do about it, and they didn’t see Karka approach Snape again.

In fact, the Durmstrang headmaster seemed to be avoiding Snape more than usual. One person who _wasn’t_ avoiding someone, however, was Ginny with Harry. Everywhere Hermione and Harry turned Ginny seemed to be in their way, despite being in a completely different year with completely different classes, and never having been their friend or even study partner.

One day in the latter half of March, Harry and Hermione were strolling down to the kitchens to say hi to their house elf Dobby and try to cheer Winky up a bit, when Ginny came barreling out from a secret passageway, trying to bowl Harry down. Fortunately, after barely being able to turn around without seeing the Weasley for the past several weeks, Harry saw her coming in time to be able to employ some of the basic muggle self-defense moves Hermione had been teaching him in their spare time, to spin out of her direct path and use her own momentum to send her flying to the stone floor.

As Hermione and Harry stood staring down at where Molly Weasley 2.0 lay sprawled indecently on the ground, Hermione remembered the first time this crazy girl had literally thrown herself at Harry in an attempt to lay him out on his back with her on top of him. She had actually forgotten about expecting Ginny to throw herself at Harry more now that he was a TriWizard champion, but between Ron’s misbehaving, them going to different Christmas Day get-togethers, the TriWizard tasks themselves, Harmony generally avoiding the youngest Weasley like the plague when they could, and the author not finding anywhere good to stick it into the flow of the story and kind of forgetting about it himself, there just hadn’t been any good time for her to literally throw herself at Harry again until now.

As for Ginny, she had apparently magically hemmed up the bottom of her robes, as very little material had scrunched up around her hips during the fall, and yet her glistening pink pussy lips were completely bared to the world, exposed and visible to anyone who walked by or stood looking down at her. She’d also apparently done some work to the neckline of her robes, as one large breast had become completely uncovered and was now spilling out of the v-neck, while the other showed nearly all the skin down to the nipple, the edge of the areola just peaking out from behind the black cloth.

The redhead sat up casually, causing her exposed breast to hang even more obscenely out the top of her robes, and more of the areola of her other breast to see the light of day — she clearly really didn’t care who saw her naked, just in case her reaming of Ron in the middle of the Gryffindor common room had left a few people still muddled about the issue. Then she unhurriedly reached down to brush the nonexistent dust off her pale inner thighs and vagina. Finally, she stood up, the bottom of her robes falling to their natural position, which turned out to be closer to her cunt than to her knees. Straightening her top, she somehow managed to get both of her breasts exposed for quite a while before managing to stuff them back inside the top of her robes, the deep-cut v-neck still showing more than appropriate cleavage.

“So what are you two up to?” she asked, like nothing out of the ordinary had just happened.

“Just going to visit Dobbs and Winks in the kitchen,” answered Hermione, deciding it best not to acknowledge that she’d found anything Ginny had just done to be anything less than a normal day at Hogwarts. Better not to encourage the girl by making it seem like they’d noticed her pathetic attempt at a mating ritual dance.

“Winkles hasn’t taken kindly to being set free, but she’s too stuck on Señor Crouchy to let Hermione and I adopt her,” added Harry, wondering if Hermione was right in thinking that the ’no underwear under the robes’ law had made most of wizardkind a bit perverse. Or if the perverseness came first, and the law was just an extension to feed their perverseness and to try to scare off muggleborns at the same time. He personally thought it might be a mix of both — an initial perverse majority of inbred purebloods that had made the law, and then those still holding on to a sense of decency had fallen into perverse line after that.

“Can I come with you guys?” asked Ginny flirtily, batting her eyelashes like she had something stuck in her eye. “I like visiting the kitchens, and maybe I can help you convince Winky.”

Hermione highly doubted someone from the only pureblood family in existence without house elves could be much help when it came to house elves, but she was also curious just how crazy Ginny was.

“You can come on one condition — ditch the robes, and you have to return to Gryffindor Tower without them, all by the normal passages.”

Squealing inside at the opportunity to not only be completely naked in front of her eventual husband, but also to walk through the entire school with all her fun bits on display, Ginny practically threw her robes off of herself, tossing them onto the floor behind some random boxes lining the side of the hallway, before skipping off down the hall towards the fruit bowl portrait, her tits swinging in time.

“Thought she’d be a _little_ more hesitant than that,” said Hermione quietly to Harry as the two of them started off slowly in the direction Ginny had disappeared in. “Apparently she quite likes public nudity.”

“I would have figured tearing her brother a new one in the middle of the common room would have been a hint,” replied Harry, rolling his eyes. “But what are you going for here? Did you just want to see if she’d stroll naked through the castle? Because we both know she’ll be more useless than an article of clothing for talking with Winky.”

“Mostly. I’m certainly curious just how far she’s willing to go,” answered Hermione, “Besides, if Ginny really thinks she can make a play at you by literally parading around naked in front of you, who am I to correct her delusions? I mean, I assume you’re not going to leave me for the batshite-crazy girl who strolls around the school starkers and fucks her brother in the arse.”

She said it teasingly, but Harry hurriedly made sure she knew for certain that he had less interest in this redhead than the one who used to be friends with them before refusing to believe that Harry hadn’t entered himself into the tournament they were in the midst of.

“No! God no! That self-conceited witch?! Ugh! And just think what she’ll look like in twenty years, whether she takes her mum or her dad’s looks!”

“And you don’t think I’ll be the same?” asked Hermione out of genuine curiosity.

“First off, you care about yourself too much and are too health conscious to ever mimic a whale or get the blood type pudding. And secondly, you don’t want to carry far more children than Mrs Weasley’s body — or bank account — could clearly handle. Besides — have you looked at your mother recently? Not exactly what I’d call losing it with age.”

“Don’t you think you have enough to be getting on with between myself, Fleur, Pince, Sally-Anne, Lavender, and Rita?” Hermione teased, bumping up against his shoulder. “Anyway, she’s married, to my dad. And while he likes you from everything I’ve told him about you over the years, I’m pretty sure he doesn’t like you _that_ much.”

Harry groaned, not even bothering to reply. Anyway, they had finally arrived at the kitchen door.

Stepping inside, they were quickly assaulted by plate after plate of treats. Despite having just come from breakfast, Harry and Hermione each took several, munching on them as they crossed the room to talk to Winky. Despite their best entreatings, Winky had no interest in being happy, and despite her determination to be naked around Harry as much as she could, Ginny soon grew bored with the proceedings and left long before Harry and Hermione did, strolling back up to the Gryffindor common room the long way around, butt naked. If anyone found it odd to see her walking through the halls without a stitch on they didn’t mention it, and even the several teachers she passed along the way didn’t tell her to go put any clothes on.

_It must run in the family_ , they all thought. _The Weasleys always were a strange one despite what they want everyone to believe_.


	23. Easter at Hogwarts

April soon arrived, and with it the promise of Easter break.

But unfortunately for everyone tired of school, there was still one more day of classes before they were finally free. And even more unfortunately for Draco Malfoy and Pansy Parkinson, the day wasn’t going to be kind to them, karma being bitchy and all that.

The day started out innocently enough, and Draco had several new insults thought up to hurl at Hogwarts’ sweetheart couple when he saw them that afternoon for potions class. But then at lunch, his girlfriend Pansy had come up to him with an idea he’d eagerly jumped at, thus setting into motion his (and her) own demise.

Draco made sure to arrive in the hallway outside the potions dungeon well ahead of class, to make sure he was there before the ever-early Harmony pair. Pansy, meanwhile, loitered around the entrance hall waiting on the infuriating pair, in order to follow down right behind them, pinning them in. But as soon as Harry and Hermione saw Draco standing there blocking the way with his wand pointed straight at them, and they spun around to find Pansy doing the same behind them, without conscious thought they hit the deck, the Snakes’ spells whizzing scorchingly over their heads, hitting the opposite caster square in the chest.

Before anyone had time to react, the dungeon door slammed open and Snape burst out, apparently just waiting with his ear on the door to hear commotion in the hallway so he could burst out and give Gryffindor detention. But even he froze when he saw the scene in front of him. Curious as to what could cause such an unusual response from the overgrown bat, Harry and Hermione looked up at Pansy, who Snape was staring slack-jawed at, and their own jaws soon followed a similar path. Then they turned to look at Draco, and found the same spell had hit him, too.

Pansy’s already firm, juicy C/D-cup tits had over doubled in size, ripping the front of her robes down the middle, letting her breasts spill out. For reasons only a magical tailor would know, the robes had not just torn, but torn clean down the front in a perfectly straight line, exposing her entire front for the world to see, as her huge tits pushed the slack material out to the sides.

Turned out Pansy had a woolly thatch above her snatch.

On the other side, Draco had suddenly grown an impressive rack himself that had split his robes as well from top to bottom, which like Pansy’s were now pushed out to the sides. While he had at best an average sized wiener hanging limply between his legs, just from eyeballing it Hermione would guess he was now sporting a solid D-cup, with giant pink areola’s and large, very stiff nipples.

Finally finding his voice (or enough of it, at least), Snape choked out, “What the hell?!” He had clearly never run across this particular spell in all his years of being a student, Death Eater, or Dumbles’ pet.

“Harry and Hermione—“ began Draco in a rush, but Snape held his hand up.

“Potter and the mudblood are lying on the floor without a wand in sight, unlike the two of you who are pointing your wands directly at each other. And while them lying on the ground instead of standing in line waiting patiently for class is a problem in and of itself which they shall be soundly punished for, unfortunately even _I_ can’t blame them for whatever the two of you did to each other. Up to the hospital wing immediately, both of you.”

Hugging their torn robes as tight around themselves as they could, Draco and Pansy hurried down the corridor and out of sight.

Looking back down at Harry and Hermione, Snape pronounced, “Ten points off apiece for lying on the ground, and I will personally make sure both of you are expelled from this school if I ever catch you doing it again. Now into the classroom, all of you!”

Everyone hurried into the classroom in a rush, Harry and Hermione silently thinking they’d gotten off rather easy for the no wrong they’d committed, compared to what Snape could have done. Making sure to brew their potions to perfection to make sure Snape didn’t change his mind and punish them more severely, they momentarily forgot about Draco’s new tits (and Pansy’s much larger ones) until supper a few hours later.

They had just sat down in their regular seats at the Gryffindor table when they spotted Draco and Pansy across the room at the Slytherin table, still sporting their new assets. Apparently, magical breast-growing curses couldn’t be magically fixed, or else Madam P liked Slytherins about as much as the rest of the castle, but either way, the castle Matron was letting them return to their normal size on their own, which should slowly occur over the next two or three weeks. Until then, Draco had to wear female robes that accented his junk, since apparently the only spare female robes available were rather tight in the crotch. And since the wizarding world didn't make magical robes in size triple-H or whatever Pansy was now heaving around, a set of triple-D robes had been modified for her to wear, that dipped low and showed all the obscene cleavage humanly possible without actually showing any nips. Though clearly just barely, as every time she walked, and the honking melons bounced, her areola briefly became visible. Also, both their breasts would permanently remain a size larger than they had been before the spell for the rest of their lives, meaning Pansy was now a Double-D girl, and Draco was a small A-cup. At least, that’s what Daphne Greengrass and Tracey Davis told the two of them when the two girls came over to swap gossip with Lavender and Sally, who were sitting with Harry and Hermione.

Perhaps it was fortunate that it was Easter break the next day, and definitely fortunate that neither Draco nor Pansy were planning on going home, as starting the next day they could hide away in the Slytherin dorms instead of having to go to class five days a week like that, and only come out for meals, until sheer boredom and a slight reduction to B’s and triple-D’s drove them out more regularly the second week of break. Not that everyone didn’t still get to see plenty of their new titties from the times they did have to come out, and Colin Creevy made sure to take a plethora of magical moving pictures of them for everyone to remember the momentous occasion by.

* * *

The last day of Easter break, Harry and Hermione were sitting at the Gryffindor table enjoying a pleasant lunch, when Hermione spotted the Weasley girl making a beeline towards them.

The girl hadn’t literally thrown herself at Harry again yet since the day she had on their way to the kitchens, but she was still showing up in their way at every turn, and she’d seemed to take the fact Pansy had to show gross amounts of cleavage as an excuse to drastically lower the neckline of her own robes. She hadn’t had any nip slips yet from it, but it had seemed like a near thing several times, and it certainly hadn’t been due to any steps _she’d_ taken. In fact, given how much she was _literally_ bouncing around, it seemed to the casual observer like she _wanted_ her boobs to fall out of her robes and onto display, and it was only by sheer bad luck that they hadn’t yet. And while they weren’t the nicest pair in the school by any stretch of the imagination, they _were_ still tits, so it’s not like anyone was exactly rooting for the robes in this struggle.

But now she was making a beeline straight for Harry and Hermione, carrying a large package and having pulled her neckline down even further than normal.

“Here comes everyone’s favorite nudist,” muttered Hermione under her breath to Harry, alerting him of impending doom.

“Hi, Harry!” trilled Ginny in what she clearly thought was a flirty voice as she walked up to them. Holding out the package she was carrying to Harry, she continued, batting her eyelashes like she still had whatever it was stuck in her eye that she’d had the last time, “Here’s an Easter egg for you."

Harry warily took the package from her, opening it up. Inside was giant chocolate egg, twice the size of the largest dragon egg, filled with homemade deserts clearly from the matriarch Weasley.

“Uh, wow. Um, thanks,” said Harry awkwardly, wondering if Mrs Weasley had received a few too many of these herself over the years and that’s why she resembled a whale, or if she just ate five for every one she made for other people. “That’s, um, wow.”

“Any time!” chirped the clearly delusional breasted-redhead, before flouncing away, titties bouncing dangerously in her robes.

“Think the giant squid likes sugar?” asked Harry. “He does deserve something for punishing Ronald after the second task.”

“Who _doesn’t_ like sugar?” replied Hermione. “And _he_ might actually burn enough calories swimming around all day not to go into a sugar coma eating that much sugar in one day. Anyway, I was already thinking about paying him a visit this afternoon — see if he would be willing to fuck your arse while I sucked you off.”

Harry stared at her in shock. “Sucked me off?!?”

Hermione nodded. “I’ve been wanting to for a while now, but I knew you’d think it was too demeaning, so I hadn’t brought it up. But I've been practicing on the strap-on ever since Fleur gave it to us after the second task, and I think I’m pretty decent at it by now.”

Harry continued to just stare at her for several more seconds, but she seemed completely genuine. He would never understand girls.

“Uh…uh, yeah. If you want to. Can’t say I haven’t been mildly curious about what squid tentacle feels like ever since seeing Ronald take it so easily after the second task. And I suppose if you really want to, _you know_ …then who am I to refuse my girlfriend?”

“I really want to,” smiled Hermione, leaning over to peck him on the lips.

So that afternoon, Harry and Hermione hiked around the edge of the lake, until they were well out of sight of anyone who might be playing by the lake, or even taking a stroll around the edge of the lake. This portion of lakefront was deep within the bounds of the Forbidden Forest, and with the exception of the twins and themselves, no one ever really broke the 'no playing in the Forbidden Forest’ rule, even if it was the _only_ castle rule that wasn’t flagrantly broken nonstop.

Assured that they wouldn’t be interrupted, Hermione told Harry to strip, which he immediately did as Hermione went to the water’s edge and whistled for the giant squid. They had agreed that it was best not to give the squid the Easter egg until _after_ they were done tentacle-fucking Harry, as they didn’t want the squid getting too hyper while it’s tentacle was inside Harry’s anus — it might push Harry and his cock into Hermione’s mouth more roughly than she wanted at the moment. Less than a minute later the squid came swimming up, and Hermione explained what they wanted, and promised a gift of sugar in exchange. Not that the squid needed a gift to be enticed with to participate, as he was more than happy to stick his limbs up people’s butts — it _was_ his favorite pastime, after all.

Harry stood as close to the water as he could without risk of falling in, and spread his legs slightly, resting his hands on Hermione’s shoulders as she stood in front of him. She then reached around him and tugged his plug out of his butthole, pulling it out with a pleasant squelching sound. Tossing it on top of his robes, she gave the squid a nod.

The next second, Harry’s arse was plunged by a long tentacle, making Harry shudder and grip Hermione’s shoulders tightly.

“How’s it feel?” asked Hermione soothingly as she rubbed her hand up and down his back, the squid staying still to allow Harry to adjust.

“Cold and slimy. Like I’d imagine it would be if you squeezed an entire bottle of lube directly up my arse before sliding in something really rubbery,” replied Harry. “But the suckers definitely make for some interesting friction. I guess that’s why most girls prefer dildos with ridges, instead of smooth.”

“Fleur said the next level on your end would include ridges, and I was planning on trying it out sometime next weekend, as a reward for a good first week back at school,” comforted Hermione as she reached down and slowly, lightly stroked his massive length with her hand.

“That assumes the first week back at school will actually go well,” said Harry, though it came out as more of a long groan than typical conversation as the squid had started sliding in and out.

“Okay, as a reward for making it _through_ the first week back at school,” chuckled Hermione, as she knelt down.

Harry didn’t even bother trying to respond as she licked her way up the underside of his cock, but he did let out a mewly moan. He also nearly fell over from no longer having anything to hold steady to, but the squid graciously wrapped another of its tentacles around his chest, holding him upright and in place. Harry and Hermione hadn’t delved into bondage much yet, but after this, Harry was going to have to reconsider that — he quite enjoyed not being able to move as the squid fucked him from behind and Hermione sucked him from in front.

Between the squid setting a steady pace and Hermione taking him all the way down her throat till her nose was buried in his curls, Harry didn’t last long at all before he was squirting his massive load down Hermione’s throat. He didn’t know how she managed to swallow it all without gagging in the slightest, but she popped her mouth off his dick with a smile and a satisfying smack, licking her lips.

As the squid continued pumping in and out of him, giving a little flick with the tip of his tentacle each time it reached it’s deepest point, which felt to Harry like it was somewhere near his stomach as deep and thoroughly as the squid was impaling him, Hermione pulled off her own robes and lay down on them, spreading her legs wide. The squid picked Harry up entirely and stretched him out prone a few inches off the ground, nestling Harry’s head right between Hermione’s legs where she wanted him. Continuing to be assfucked by the giant squid, Harry began licking Hermione in earnest. He moved to bring his hand up to stick a few fingers into her, but the squid grabbed both of his wrists with two more tentacles and held them behind his back, making Harry do all the work with his lips and parseltongue.

They spent the next several hours fucking in every imaginable position a guy, a girl, and a live, attached squid tentacle could, until Harry and Hermione were finally so worn out that they called it quits for the afternoon. Tossing the squid his sugary reward, they called for Dobby to bring them food, and relaxed and enjoyed supper naked under the cover of the Forbidden Forest until they’d finally built up enough strength to walk back to the castle and get ready for the return of school the next morning.


	24. Under the Table

The beginning of summer term was rather quiet by normal Hogwarts standards, giving Harry and Hermione time to perfect a suggestion Fleur had given to them when they’d first become friends.

Once the French girl had found out that Harry had a perfect Invisibility Cloak, and Hermione was an era-defining genius, and there were a lot of annoying gits at the school that needed knocked down a level in a highly pleasurable but excruciatingly embarrassing way, she’d propositioned the two with an idea she’d been wanting to do for years at Beauxbatons, but didn’t have the means or skills or necessary partner to implement. It had taken almost six months for Hermione to finally perfect the necessary spell, but at the beginning of May, after much testing and fiddling and practicing with Harry and Fleur in Fleur’s carriage, and then with Harry, Sally, and Lavender in their dorm room, and finally with Harry, Fleur, Sally, and Lavender in the Gryffindor common room, she’d finally gotten it perfect.

Sitting down to supper one evening, Harry ducked under the table, pulling his invisibility cloak over him. Hermione scooted forwards to the very edge of her seat, spreading her legs wide. Lavender and Sally-Anne sat down on either side of her, and Fleur sat down across from them, just to make sure no one could see anything out of the ordinary going on under the table. They’d practiced this over and over in Hermione’s dorm room and at a table in the corner of the Gryffindor common room, but it was a little less of an issue to be caught in either of those places than in the middle of the Great Hall.

Hermione casually cast the spell on her vagina, before looking around to see who she wanted to try it out on first. Millicent Bulstrode had been particularly nasty to her earlier that day in class, so with her wand still hidden under the table, she cast the other half of the spell at the busty Slytherin. Seeing the Snake’s hair glow slightly gold for a second, she tapped Harry with her foot to let him know it was safe to start. So hidden by his invisibility cloak, he snuck up under Hermione’s robes, where he could begin orally pleasuring her.

As Harry’s tongue got to work, Hermione felt the pleasurable tingles begin building in her stomach. But unlike it normally would, it never reached the point where she’d start moaning, or even panting lightly. For instead, the extra pleasure beyond what could be considered decent in a public space, was being apparated elsewhere.

Meanwhile, across the hall, Millicent was squeezing her thighs tightly, wondering why the hell she’d just become hot and wet all of a sudden. But before she could really think about it, it felt like someone had stuck her favorite vibrator directly on her clit and a moan escaped her lips before she could stop it. Everyone around her turned and looked at her, causing her to blush as brightly as the marinara sauce they were having with their spaghetti that night.

“This is just really good spaghetti,” she muttered weakly, squeezing her thighs together even tighter.

No one believed her in the least, as while all the food at Hogwarts was good, the spaghetti certainly wasn’t orgasmic. But no one said anything, as stranger things routinely happened at Hogwarts, and which of the girls could honestly say they hadn’t at least once stuck their favorite vibes up their pussies and tried to keep anyone from finding out during class or a meal?

As everyone returned to their meals, Millicent bit her lower lip and pulled a book out of her bag and laid it open on the table, so she could bury her mouth in her palm and just look like she was studying really intently. Once again, no one was buying it, having seen or done that move too many times to be fooled, but once again again, nobody commented on it as they really didn’t care, or else were guilty of having done it before themselves.

The pleasure continued rolling in waves through the Slytherin, the insanely good vibrations sometimes working her clit and sometimes coming deep inside her cunt against her g-spot, and within five minutes, she was a quivering mess. If it hadn’t been in the middle of the Great Hall during supper, and she knew where it was coming from, she would have enjoyed it quite immensely. As it was, she was just trying to hold it together and not embarrass herself any more than necessary.

But less than a minute later that became quite impossible, as a particularly hard surge hit her, and she tumbled over the edge shuttering, letting out a loud scream and moan that couldn’t be misinterpreted as anything other than a girl coming very, very hard.

As everyone turned to stare at the Slytherin, and a few people (led by the twins) set up a hardy round of clapping, across the hall Hermione pushed Harry’s head away from her nether regions, figuring it too cruel to let Harry continue attacking what she knew was now a very, very oversensitive clit. Harry had slipped off the invisibility cloak and nestled himself on the bench between Hermione and Sally by the time Millicent had finally stopped shaking and everyone had started returning to their meals.

Piling his plate high with food, Harry whispered with just a hint of a smirk, “Successful, I take it?”

“Quite,” replied Hermione quietly. “Although you’re going to have to drag me into a broom closet and fuck me properly as soon as we get done eating.”

Sally then leaned across Harry, not bothering in the least to try to keep her body from bushing up against his as much as possible, to say to both of them, “Weren’t you working on having it slightly delayed, so the pleasure had built up some before it transferred? Because I’m not sure all girls would stick it out like Millicent did, no matter how pleasurable the feelings are. Which whoo, buddy, they are. Harry’s got one hell of a talented tongue.”

“Benefits of being a parseltongue,” smirked Harry in reply. “And everyone thought it was the end of the world second year, before completely forgetting it even existed.”

Getting the discussion back on point, and away from the wizarding world’s bigotry, Hermione said, “I _do_ have a modified version of the spell that I think will do that. I just wanted to try out the standard version first, and make sure it would really work and we could pull it off. And if Milli _had_ gotten up and left, the spell would have broke about the time she got out into the entrance hall, and I would have just cast it on someone else and tried again. But tomorrow night we can try the modified version. I think Ginny would be a good first target for that, as she probably won’t even blush when an orgasm hits her out of nowhere. She’ll probably just drag her robes down under her breasts and play with them and pinch her nipples in front of the entire hall, until one of the teachers drags her away to the hospital wing.”

~HP~

The next day at lunch, they tried the spell for a second time.

They stuck with the standard spell, saving the hard-hitting spell until supper, when they could be assured that the maximum number of people would be in the Great Hall to enjoy the show Ginny was bound to put on for them. The first girl they tried it on was a seventh year Slytherin they’d seen bullying a first year student between classes earlier that morning. But after the first few stripes of Harry’s tongue and one solid parseltongue deep inside Hermione’s cunt, the girl had shakily left the hall, and according to the reports from Daphne and Tracey that they received later, had gone into the nearest bathroom and from the sounds of it thoroughly finger-fucked herself to multiple screaming orgasms.

The second girl they used it on was Pansy, who promptly slapped Draco across the face for presumably finger-fucking her under the table as soon as she felt the first sensations against her snatch. Their ensuing argument kept her from any embarrassing moans until she suddenly came without warning, screeching like a banshee and collapsing into her plate, making the entire hall wonder what it was with Slytherins orgasming at the dinner table these days.

Once again, none of the teachers made any mention about it or even seemed to talk to the two girls, though a rumor was started that someone had seen Snape’s hand disappear into his robes during both exhibitions, though whether that was actually true or not no one ever knew.

But finally at supper, they were able to bring out the coup de grâce.

Ginny had just filled her plate with food when her pussy lit on fire. All of the Gryffindors who’d been in the common room on the fateful Saturday after the second task — so all of the Gryffindors — knew how lewd the Weasley could be when she orgasmed. But that evening, the rest of the castle found out as well. The girl didn’t even have time to try to grab for her breasts or pussy before she descended into a cursing mess, but fortunately for everyone watching, Harry wasn’t done after just one round.

Hearing the telltale signs that the redhead was cumming hard, Harry pulled his lips back from Hermione’s clit, and plunged three fingers deep into the Bushy-haired Bookworm’s snatch.

Down the table, finally coming down from her first high, Ginny felt another mind-blowing orgasm building up in the depths of her cunt, and without even thinking about where she was, or that maybe it wasn’t the most appropriate action she could take, she yanked her obscenely low-cut robes down under her breasts, and began toying with them just as Hermione had predicted. What they hadn’t predicted was that the girl would suddenly shove everything off the table in front of her, and climb up onto the table and lay down flat on her back, legs bent and spread wide so everyone down the table could see her soaking pink pussy, and everyone in the entire hall could see her kneading her breasts and pinching and tugging her nipples. The entire hall stared in wonder as the girl writhed on the table, soon letting out another scream that indicated she was having her second orgasm in five minutes, in case the massive squirting didn't make it obvious enough.

But as soon as she’d come down from that one, she finally let a hand go from her breasts, just to pull the hem of her robes up around her waist, so she could plunge four fingers into her pussy like it was nothing. By this point the entire student body had crowded around the Gryffindor table to watch the train wreck, unable to look away. Ginny’s fingers plunged in and out of her cunt at a rate that made more than a few girls cringe, and she was soon wrecked by yet another spasming orgasm.

After that, it became difficult to distinguish one orgasm from the next. Reports varied from eight to over a dozen total orgasms in less than fifteen minutes before Professor McG finally descended from the head table and _Wingardium Leviosa_ ’d the youngest Weasley out of the Great Hall and up to the hospital, fearing much more could leave the girl with permanent brain damage.

As it was, it was three days before anyone saw Ginny again and she finally returned to classes, albeit noticeably hobbling for another week still.


	25. Hedges

Harry and Hermione were finally instructed as to what the last task of the TriWizard Tournament would be in the last week of May.

They, along with the three actual champions, gathered in the middle of the hedged-up Quidditch pitch to learn that they would have to make it through a highly dangerous maze filled the worst kinds of evil obtainable by the three headmasters to finally descend upon the coveted Cup. And it would be a race. Stagger-started based on the slim point differentials from the first task, since they’d all received the same number of points in the second task. Harry and Hermione would meanwhile be starting an hour after Fleur, the final regular entrant into the maze, because that’s definitely how the point time differential came out, and the judges totally weren’t playing Calvinball here at all under the cover of the fact that no one actually knew the rules except themselves. But Harry and Hermione were fine with it, because they hadn’t even volunteered for the tournament to begin with, even if they were more than happy with all the benefits they’d gained from being thrust into it illegally.

But they were soon dismissed, since there wasn’t actually any viable reason for dragging everyone out into the middle of the Quidditch field at nine at night just to tell them they had to make it through a difficult maze quickly, and the five champions walked out of the maze together, chatting. They had just reached the edge of the Forbidden Forest when Señor Crouchy, judge unfindable, suddenly jumped out from behind a tree, making them all jump.

At first they simply thought he was talking politics, as he seemed to just be rambling without making any sense, but then he suddenly seemed to become lucid, gasping, “Dumbles! I need...see...Dumbles…."

He continued entreating them in harsh whispers, as the five champions just stared at him, wondering if they were finally witnessing a politician going around the bend. Then he suddenly began talking fluent politiceese to the nearest tree again, and they realized something worse than becoming a politician had happened to him, and they really should go get Dumbles to sort it all out.

“Two of us should stay here to protect Señor Crouchy and make sure he doesn’t wander away or try to enact any new laws, while three of us go find Dumbles or a teacher,” began Harry, when suddenly it was lights out for all of them.

~HP~

Hermione was the first to come to, and quickly began shaking everyone else awake. Based on the position of the moon and the stars compared to where they’d been as they'd left the maze, she calculated that they’d been out cold for about twenty minutes. That, and the fact her watch now read nine-thirty.

“Where is he?” asked everyone over each other once they were all finally rousted and saw that Señor Crouchy was no longer with them.

Physically no longer with them. Though for all they knew, he might not be with them in the other sense, either.

After a quick Lumos didn’t reveal him taking a nap with them, they quickly headed off towards the castle to alert a teacher that there was a loose politician on the grounds making even less sense than normal, and possibly even being in his right mind at times. Making it up to the castle, they burst into the teachers’ lounge, figuring that to be the most likely place to find a teacher.

And sure enough, they found three.

Professor McG, Flity, and surprisingly, Bug-Eyed Trelawney, were shooting the bull around a cask of ale when the five students burst in, and inconsiderately didn’t offer them any. The five champions quickly described what had happened, and in less than thirty minutes a search party consisting of Dumbles, Mad-Eye, and Hagrid headed out of the castle to try to find Señor Crouchy, while the five champions headed to their respective beds because it was late and it was a school night, and Professor McG, Flity, and Bug-Eyed Trelawney went back to sipping their ale.

~HP~

They never heard how the search had turned out, until a few days later through a completely unrelated event.

Hermione had gone to her regularly scheduled Monday afternoon Arithmancy class, while Harry was in the library skiving off Divination since he’d given it up as a complete load of bullshite several months earlier. If Bug-Eyed Trelawney had told any of the other teachers about him no longer attending her class, none of them had confronted Harry about it — though whether that was because she _hadn’t_ told them, or simply because none of them cared if Harry stopped attending such a woolly subject, Harry and Hermione were still undecided. But regardless, Harry was in the library finishing up his Herbology homework they’d received that morning, instead of up in the stuffy tower that almost made one fall asleep as quickly as Binnsy’s voice.

One moment he was looking up plants, the next he was riding on the back of an eagle owl, soaring through the clear blue sky. He soon flew into a creepy building, eventually coming to an even creepier room, containing the most creepiest of all, a naked Wormtail and a huge snake (also naked, but then again, snakes usually are). To no one’s surprise, Voldypants babbled on murderously for several minutes, before finally pulling out his wand that he’d miraculously gotten back after losing it or it blowing up into smithereens in the Potter Cottage when he attempted to kill the baby Potter, right before deciding to take a quick sabbatical on trying to take over the world and float around not quite unlike a ghost for a decade or so.

Pointing it at Wormtail, he cast a curse Harry had never seen or heard before. At the beginning, if he’d just seen the look on Wormtail’s face and heard his screams, instead of also feeling an echoed version of the effects himself, he would have thought Voldypants was hitting him with the Cruciatus Curse. But that echoed feeling he could feel wasn’t white-hot needles under the skin, at least not in the normal sense. And then within minutes, rope of sticky cum after rope of sticky cum was shooting out of Wormtail’s fully erect penis, completely coating himself and the walls and the floor around him. This continued on until Harry was sure Wormtail’s screams really were in agony from pleasure overload. Finally Voldemort lowered his wand and left Wormtail in a whimpering heap on the grungy wooden floor, unable to move.

Harry jerked his head up from the library desk with a start, hurriedly looking around to see if he had replicated any of Wormtail’s moans, and if anyone was looking at him strangely. But thankfully no one around was paying him any attention, though whether that was because he’d remained quiet or everyone was too indifferent to care that he’d just gotten his rocks off while doing homework, the jury was still out. The next thing he noticed was that the inside of his robes were painted with his own cum, though nowhere near as much as Wormtail had ejaculated, and nothing more than the quick cleaning charm he performed could take care of.

What he didn’t know, was at the exact same time as he was having his wet dream, Hermione was getting the feelings-free version in Arithmancy. Which really was for the better, as moaning during Arithmancy was much more likely to be questioned and much harder to explain away than moaning while doing homework in the library. Typically it was more groans than orgasmic moans in the library, but they were similar enough that people generally weren’t about to question — after all, everyone sounded differently, and someone like the Bushy-haired Bookworm really might get that kind of pleasure from doing homework. And besides, who hadn’t ever had someone give them a little extra encouragement while they were studying? It was a very nonjudgemental school, at least when it came to that — though very, very judgmental when it came to halfbreeds, and parseltongue, and purebloodedness, and lots and lots of other rather more important things.

But back in the library, as Hermione was busy thinking over the vision instead of paying attention to class for the first time in her life, Harry was debating what he should do. On one hand, he should probably tell Dumbles, or some other responsible adult as quickly as possible, but on the other hand, it didn’t seem like there was any urgent news in Voldypants’ ramblings, and he wanted to see what Hermione would suggest when she got out of Arithmancy. So in the end, he decided to finish up his homework, and wait on Hermione.

A while later, Hermione made her way through the library, finding Harry at their normal table in the back. Never one for unnecessary greetings, as soon as she was close enough to use her inside-the-library voice and he still hear her, she asked, “Was that pain or pleasure? I couldn’t tell from Wormtail's face or screams, though the large amount of ejaculate would indicate pleasure.”

“How did you—?!” exclaimed Harry, looking up at her, but she cut him off before he could finish.

“I think we’re psychically-linked from the ritual Fleur performed with us at the beginning of all this. It’s not as strong as your scar-connection straight to Voldypants, but it is still there. Now what was that spell — pain or pleasure?”

“The latter eventually causing the first, I think,” answered Harry. “You should be familiar to a much smaller, more controlled extent. And from Ginny making a fool of herself in the Great Hall. Twice a week for the last month.”

“I’m more than aware of too much pleasure beginning to border on pain, we did it last night,” replied Hermione, rolling her eyes. "And _technically_ , we might be _slightly_ to blame for Ginny looking like a fool.”

“We aren’t the ones making her strip naked and writhe on the table,” countered Harry. "We just give her the orgasms, which if she’d just walk out of the Hall when she felt the first one building, wouldn’t even come. I mean, after that first time, we've never used the sudden orgasm version of the spell again. She just likes showing off her orgasms to the whole school, until the teachers are afraid she’ll risk permanent brain damage and cart her off to the hospital wing where she spends the night recovering. I’m honestly rather surprised she hasn’t had a few false starts and climbed on the table and began fucking herself just thinking she was getting orgasmed when really she just had a random teenage, hormonal erection. Or pooling, or hot flash, or whatever you girls call random, unexplainable horniness.”

“Teenage arousals?” shrugged Hermione, not really ever having thought about a name for it before. “But more importantly than Ginny climbing on the table and finger-fucking herself in front of the whole school, which we both know if we keep talking about will cause _us_ to get hot and bothered and want to have it out here and now on this table, what are we going to do about this vision we had? Seems like we ought to tell someone, even if they probably won’t actually do anything useful with it.”

“I was thinking we should try to find Dumbles and tell him, but since it wasn’t urgent, I wanted to hear your opinion first,” replied Harry.

“I think that’s a fine idea. Can’t hurt, anyway,” answered Hermione. “Want to go do that now? I mean, we could wait until after supper, it _was_ just the normal ‘Wormtail’s made a blunder, somebody Voldypants wants dead is, and oh yeah, Harry Potter will die’. Nothing Dumbles couldn’t guess on his own without hearing about our vision. You know, I’m pretty sure ‘Harry Potter will die’ is just the Death Eaters’ way of saying goodbye. Instead of saying ‘Goodbye, Malfoy', 'Goodbye, Rooks’, they go 'Harry Potter will die, Malfoy’, 'Harry Potter will die, Rooks. See you tomorrow.’ It’s like ending your conversation with ‘Hail, Hydra’ so the other person knows you’re part of the club.”

“Well, I don’t have anything important to do at the moment, since I just finished up my homework a couple minutes before you arrived, so we might as well go ahead and get it out of the way,” replied Harry. “At least that’s my thought.”

“That’s chill — we can go now. I don’t have anything else either, and maybe we can find a broom closet on the way from his office down to supper.”

~HP~

A few minutes later, Harry and Hermione stood in front of the stone gargoyle, wondering how to make it move since they didn’t have the secret password, and it probably wasn’t ‘Harry Potter will die’ or ‘Hail, Hydra’ (anyway, they’d tried both, and it hadn’t worked).

Hermione had just suggested trying to tickle the gargoyle into submission, when Dumbles, Mad-Eye, and Fudgypie himself came strolling up the hallway behind them.

“ ‘Ello, you two,” greeted Dumbles in a bad fake British accent. “I was just giving Fudgypie here a tour of the grounds we failed to find Señor Crouchy on the other night. How can I help you?” Turning to the Minister of what used to be the most powerful country on earth back in the eras where wizarding society was still stuck, he added, “And _goodbye_ , Fudgy,” before turning his attention back to Harry and Hermione.

He gave the password to the gargoyle (“ _Cockroach Clusters_ ”), and led them up to his office. Soon enough, they had told Dumbles everything they had seen, heard, and felt, and he dismissed them after much thoughtful humming and head nodding. Meandering their way down to the Great Hall for supper, Hermione pulled Harry into the first broom closet they ran across.

“I think we both deserve a reward for being good little students and telling the professor what we saw,” she whispered sultrily in his ear.

In under three seconds flat, both their robes were off them and Harry’s penis was wedged firmly inside Hermione's soaked vagina.


	26. Final Exams

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the shorter chapter, but the last chapter needed to be together, and the Third Task needs to be its own, so this is what you get.

Despite officially being excused from final exams, Harry, Hermione, Fleur, Cedric, and Krum were all still studying to take their exams anyway.

The point of going to school was to learn. Even if they _had_ been selected by a large drinking vessel to complete dangerous tasks all for the sake of governments and headmasters being able to brag to everyone about how they’d brought back an ancient tournament that’d been buried in the past for a reason — and there was a little bit of hazard pay for the winner. So learn they were going to, even if it made most of their classmates scrunch up their noses in confusion, and Ronald yell at them in the Gryffindor common room once or twice a dozen times that they were complete morons and arseholes for not taking this excuse not to have to be studying and to joke off instead. Of course, given the fact that he himself was joking off every time he said it, instead of studying like he purportedly should have been doing given the fact he _wasn’t_ exempt from exams, combined with the fact that no one could look at him without picturing him naked, and it didn’t quite have the effect he was going for.

On the final day of exams, the day of the third task, Harry and Hermione were sitting in the Great Hall finishing up breakfast, getting ready to start their final day of examining, when Professor McG sauntered up like she owned the place.

“Potter, Granger, the champions are congregating in the chamber off the Hall after breakfast,” she informed them. "The champions' families are invited to watch the final task, you know,” she continued, despite the fact no one had told either of them that the champions’ families were invited to watch, and therefore there was absolutely no way they could have possibly known. “This is a chance for you to greet them."

“Sorry, Prof, can’t. History of Mag is in ten minutes,” replied Harry, reaching down to pick up his bag.

“And my parents certainly aren’t here, or they would have told me, and the Dursleys wouldn’t have come if their life depended on it, not that you would have invited them had their life depended it, or that Harry would have wanted to see them, anyway,” added Hermione, standing up and taking Harry’s hand. “So goodbye, we have _school_ to get to."

And with that they strolled out of the Great Hall towards the History of Magic classroom, leaving a rather stunned Professor McG standing there staring at their disappearing backs. She’d heard all the champions were still taking their tests, and she’d of course seen them all in her own Transfiguration finals she’d given, but she still couldn’t believe that they would rather take a final than meet their families — even if Hermione was technically right in pointing out that it wasn’t actually either of their families. Turning to try to find the other three champions to tell them about meeting their families, she saw that they had all already disappeared from the Great Hall, apparently as intent on their learning as Harry and Hermione were. Whelp, off to tell their parents they were going to have to wait until lunch to see their children because they were too busy taking their final exams.

As Harry and Hermione moseyed to their destination, Harry asked, “Who do you think they brought in as our ‘family’? Since it certainly wasn’t your parents or Sirius, the only people who could be considered our family.”

Hermione gave him a look. The kind she gave him when he was being especially dense. “ _Seriously?_ Who do you _think_? We all know there’s an evil plot afoot by the Weasleys.”

“Oh,” mumbled Harry, realizing how stupid he’d been not to see it immediately.

But by this point they had arrived outside Binnsy’s classroom, and he put it out of his mind for the time being.

~HP~

Leaving Binnsy’s classroom for lunch a couple hours later, Harry whispered into Hermione’s ear, “You know, we _could_ go down and meet Mrs Lardo Weasel, _or_ ….”

“ _Yeah?_ ” whispered Hermione back sultrily.

“We could sneak back to our bed and I could do unspeakably dirty things to you for hours on end."

Hermione nearly pulled Harry’s arm off jerking him off in the direction of a secret passage that would hasten their assent to the seventh floor and Gryffindor Tower.

Despite his statement that the things he was going to do to her were unspeakable, Harry kept up a steady description the whole way there of just what he planned to do, so that by the time they made it up to their dorm room, Hermione was wetter than a fucking thunderstorm in Texas. She was so wet she felt like Harry’s head could have slid into her with ease. _That_ certainly would have given new meaning to the phrase ‘giving her head’.

Good to his word, Harry spent the next several hours defiling Hermione above and beyond her wildest dreams.

“Where the hell did you learn all that?” asked Hermione in disbelief as she hobbled along with Harry down to the Great Hall to grab a late lunch and refuel.

“You didn’t _really_ think I spent last night reviewing History of Magic, did you?” replied Harry cheekily.

“I didn’t _think_ it looked like a normal history book, but it was old enough looking that I thought you might have just found a more interesting book than our textbook to study from,” answered Hermione.

“Oh, it was more interesting, alright,” smirked Harry. “And I’m pretty sure I just proved it.”

Hermione rolled her eyes, but she certainly couldn’t disagree. It really was a good thing they weren’t competing for real in the tournament that night, because she certainly wasn’t going to be in any kind of condition to be doing any serious running away from monsters for a while.

They had just sat down at the Gryffindor table when Professor McG scurried over to remind them that their family was still waiting for them in the side chamber off the Great Hall, and that they really had to go say hi since their final final exam wasn’t for another hour. So after wasting as much time as they could eating, they finally wandered into the side chamber, where to little surprise they found Mrs Weasley waiting for them, along with Bill.

"Surprise!” said Mrs. Weasley excitedly as she started to quickly waddle over to them. "Thought we'd come and watch you, Harry, since we knew you wouldn’t have any family here!”

She was clearly a woman on a mission to kiss Harry on the cheek, so Hermione took a subtle step sideways in front of her future husband, cutting the older woman off.

“What are you doing here?” she asked cooly. “Only family is supposed to be here, and if there’s any family that could have been invited, it would have been _my_ parents, not you.”

“Oh, I’m sure your parents wouldn’t have been interested in coming,” brushed off Matriarch Weasley, but before she could continue with whatever she was going to say about how she was so much better as a visitor because she cared and all that crap, Hermione cut her off.

“My parents would have absolutely loved to have come visited,” she said coldly. “They’re fascinated with my gift, and want to learn everything about it and the world I’m now a part of that they can. They’ve been to Diagon Alley with me over a dozen times in the four years I’ve known I’m a witch. They would have came to visit the school I attend in a heartbeat."

Mrs Weasley looked properly chastised for all of a split second before quickly changing the subject. “We were hoping you could give us a tour around the castle!” she said cheerfully.

“Sorry, but we have a final exam in fifteen minutes,” replied Harry, not sounding very sorry at all.

“But aren’t you excused from final exams as champions?” exclaimed Mrs Weasley in disbelief.

“And isn’t this a _school_ , where the whole point is to learn and find out how much you’ve learned?” riposted Hermione. Turning to Harry she added, “Come on, Harry. Let’s go.”

They were going to be a few minutes early, but it was better than standing around there and being patronized and mollycoddled by the mother of someone they used to be friends with.


	27. Third Task, Part 1

That evening, after a delightful supper, the champions descended on the Quidditch pitch to get ready for the final task.

The stadium had soon filled up around them, and Ludicrous Bagyman had just finished explaining the third task to the audience, when out of the blue, a thatch of red hair came streaking past them and into the maze yelling, “I’m going to find the cup first and prove what complete losers you all are! Bwa-hahahaha…."

His voice faded into the distance as he disappeared into the maze. After everyone spent several seconds staring at the now empty again entrance to the maze, they all finally shrugged their shoulders before turning their attention back to the task at hand. Ronald was being Ronald once more — what was new? It would have been a bigger surprise by that point if he _hadn’t_ done something stupid to commemorate the final task. And now that it was over, they could all get back to what they were doing.

Krum was sent into the maze first, followed by Cedric five minutes later, followed by Fleur five minutes after that. Now that everyone else was in the maze, and they still had an hour to wait, Harry and Hermione walked over to the Gryffindor Quidditch changing room, and went inside. They had time to kill, and there was only one way to do it.

Harry quickly stripped off his robes, before walking over and sitting down on the nearest bench. His cock stuck straight up, proud and ready and imposing. Hermione, who’d stripped off her own robes at the same time, promptly sat down in his lap, impaling herself on his big friendly giant.

She had been hobbling slightly most of the afternoon, a delicious ache from their pre-lunch session permeating all of her muscles, but what better way to shake off some soreness than exercise those muscles again? And as Harry bounced her up and down in his lap, she could feel the soreness just melting away, ready to be replaced by even more soreness that she was bound to incur from this impromptu session with Harry Jr. But with any luck, one of the three real champions would have found the Cup by the time she and Harry were scheduled to enter, and they wouldn’t even have to walk into the maze.

Unfortunately, as Hermione recovered from her seventh orgasm fifty minutes later, Harry looked at his watch and said, “ ‘Fraid that’s got to be it for now, sweetheart. We’ve got ourselves a maze to enter. But maybe we can go just far enough inside to round the hedge and be hidden, and continue this there.”

Hermione grudgingly de-impaled herself, immediately missing the feeling of him stuffing her full.

They threw their robes back on and waltzed over to where the judges were waiting on them, knowing smirks playing across all their judgy faces. Since they were already there, and there was only a few minutes left before they were supposed to enter anyway, and no one in the extraordinarily bored crowd (since all they’d been looking at for the last hour was hedges growing, which grew slower than grass when the magical growth charms (aka, steroids) had been taken off of them) was going to be paying that close of attention to their watches if they even had them, Ludicrous Bagyman went ahead and blew his whistle for the two of them to enter.

As planned, they walked to the end of the hedge, and turned right to disappear out of sight of the crowd.

But just as Hermione was about to yank her robes back over her head so Harry could finish what he’d already started and finished seven times in the Quidditch changing room, Harry suddenly said, “Hey! What’s that?”

Hermione dropped the hem of her robes and turned to look at what Harry was pointing at. There was something on the ground, that was hard to make out under the starlight and cover of the hedges. Harry bent down to look at it, as Hermione pulled out and _lumos_ ’d her wand, grabbing his shoulder as she bent down next to him.

It turned out to be something that looked exactly like what they thought the TriWizard Cup might look like, if it were 6 inches tall, instead of two feet and in the center of the maze like it was supposed to be. But that wasn’t even the most amazing part about it, as when Harry reached down to prod it with his finger like some weird bug, they instantly felt jerks somewhere behind their navels, and their feet left the ground.

A few seconds later the spinning stopped, and Harry and Hermione landed back on the ground in their crouch, Hermione’s hand still firmly gripping Harry’s shoulder. Straightening up, they looked around at where they’d been portkeyed to, Harry pulling out his wand and _lumos_ -ing it, too. In an unknown, clearly dangerous place that they obviously weren’t supposed to be in, it was eternally prudent to have your wand always ready to cast with, and a little extra light never hurt no one neither, as it seemed like no one was ever non-consensually transported to a brightly lit place filled with nice, friendly people.

They hadn’t been standing there more than a few seconds looking around at the eerie graveyard, filled with lots of graves and shadows, when they saw a figure walking steadily towards them between the graves. Deciding it best to shoot first and ask questions later in a place that looked like very bad people would do very bad things, and good people would never catch themselves dead in unless they had been magically transported there by very bad people to have very bad things done to them, Harry and Hermione simultaneously pointed their wands and shouted, “ _Stupefy!_ "

The figure froze, keeling over and dropping to the ground the bundle he was carrying. _Wingardium Leviosa_ -ing the miniature TriWizard Cup Portkey with them, since they didn’t want sent back to the maze quite yet, but wanted to make sure the portkey was with them at all times in case they needed to make a hasty getaway, they walked over to the recently rendered comatose figure, still carefully looking around them for anyone else who might need aided in obtaining unconsciousness. But they arrived at the man without further incident, and looked down to find that it was none other than Wormtail the Worst.

Hermione cast a quick rope-binding charm on him in case he happened to wake up, before they turned their attention to the bundle of blankets the rat had dropped. Vividly remembering the time the previous year that Bug-Eyed Trelawney had proven that broken seers will still right twice in their lives, they had little doubt as to who was bundled up in those blankets, though they both wondered what he would look like, since when he’d started his sabbatical, he hadn’t had any body at all. But given the fact they’d visioned the foul incarnation of evil holding his magically reappeared and perfectly unscathed wand while torturing Wormtail with the ever-cummming curse, they could deduce he at least had a hand now, whatever else he may or may not have recently started possessing since hitchhiking in Quirrelly’s turban a few years earlier.

But before they could find out, they heard a slithering in the weeds nearby, and quickly turned and blasted the noise with a barrage of _Incindio_ spells. The snake from the dream, for that’s what it was, flew up into the air, writhing and twisting, before splatting on the ground in a twisted, burnt, crisp heap. A strange black cloud of smoke also escaped from out of its lips, dissipating into the shadowy night. Had they been horcrux experts — which meant, had they been Dumbles, for he was the only living one after all of the wizarding world deemed horcruxes too evil, and therefore promptly forgot all about their very existence in a misguided belief that if they, smart, good witches and wizards, deemed horcruxes too evil to even think about, then no bad, evil, dark witch or wizard would ever try to learn how to make one — they would have been surprised that a series of fire-charms had managed to kill a beast with a horcrux in it, and therefore kill the horcrux as well. But had they been both Horcrux and sex-power spell experts — so no one living, since no one living _was_ both — they would have just nodded their heads and gone, ‘Ah, just what we expected’. As it was, since they were neither, Harry and Hermione simply cautiously walked over to make sure the large, thick snake really was dead, before returning their attention to the blankets.

Using _Wingardium Leviosa_ , Hermione carefully lifted the corner of the blankets, to see exactly what inhuman monstrosity they were dealing with. But as soon as it became visible, and it looked at Harry as Harry looked back at it, Harry’s scar burst with pain and he collapsed on the ground in agony, clutching his head. Hermione instantly dropped the corner of the blanket back over the slimy red baby thing’s head, and dropped beside Harry and hugged his face tightly to her boobs. They were still robed, reducing her girls’ efficiency slightly, but they worked nonetheless, and soon Harry’s headsplitting pain had subsided, and he was able to look back up at her.

“You good?” she asked soothingly, running her hand through his unruly raven hair.

Harry nodded. “Yeah. Let’s just not do that again. That hurt.”

“Of course not, of course not,” replied Hermione. “But I would say we are both one hundred percent sure that that is the scourge of the world?”

“Yeah. Why?”

“Well, since we both know it’s him, and we certainly don’t want to and can’t look at the foul thing again, I say we just pick up a few heavy rocks and _Wingardium Leviosa_ bash his brains in, like any halfway decent first year could do soon after Halloween,” replied Hermione cheerfully. “Then we can return an unconscious, bound Wormtail, a dead snake, and a dead Voldypants back to the maze.”

“Smart witch,” smiled Harry, before pointing his wand at a large, firm, smooth heavy rock nearby.

Hermione picked up her own favorite vaguely breast-shaped chunk of solid mineral with her wand as well, and she and Harry proceeded to bash the blankets to pulp, until they were more than sure they’d overkilled the evil git. Once they were positive it was more than dead, Hermione pulled out her Glock 20 from her robe holster and dumped fifteen plus one rounds of hot ten millimeter hollow point lead into the blankets — because there’s no kill like overkill, and sometimes it is absolutely necessary to kill an ant with a sledgehammer — before putting in a fresh magazine and racking the slide to chamber a round before reholstering it, ready for the next thing she came across her wand couldn’t quite handle.

Then she carefully lifted the corner of the blanket again, to make sure Harry didn’t collapse this time, proving for sure it was completely and absolutely totally deceased. Turned out Harry did still almost collapse, but just from how gross and disgusting and vomit-inducing the puddle of ex-Voldypants was.

Confident they’d taken care of the problem, they kicked the snake carcass over to the blanket, and Harry gingerly grabbed hold of the snake’s tail and the very corner of the blanket with one hand, while Hermione roughly grabbed Wormtail’s ear with one hand and Harry’s arse with the other, and Harry used his spare hand to grab the mini-TriWizard Cup, portkeying them back to Hogwarts.


	28. Third Task, Part 2

They landed in a heap just outside the bounds of the maze.

Hermione was sure they looked quite odd, two students, a bound runt of a man, a bundle of blankets, a crispy dead snake, and a miniaturized version of the TriWizard Cup, but before she had long to think on that, Dumbles and the rest of the judges came hurrying up to them.

As soon as the adults were close enough, Harry said, “If no one’s won yet, you might want to send someone to see if the TriWizard cup is where it’s supposed to be, because I think _that_ might be it, shrunk down and turned into a portkey. So don’t touch it, in case that wasn’t obvious enough.”

“ _That’s_ the —?” began Fudgypie, who’d replaced the hookying Señor Crouchy, before everyone suddenly turned to stare at Mad-Eye, who was standing there looking shifty.

“Mad-Eye…” said Dumbles slowly. “Weren’t _you_ the one who volunteered to take the Cup down to the pitch earlier this afternoon?”

“Uh, well, uh, you see…” stammered Mad-Eye, looking guiltier and guiltier by the second.

“Bind him!” roared Madam Maxime, an order readily carried out by Flity.

That all sorted, Dumbles turned back to Harry and Hermione. Pointing at what lay on the ground all around them, he asked, “So what presents have you brought with you from wherever your travels took you?”

“Well, this portkey took us to an old graveyard somewhere,” answered Hermione. “That bound man is Wormtail the Worst, aka Peter Pettigrew, aka traitorous rat, aka the guy who betrayed Harry’s parents and he’s really lucky he didn’t suffer the same fate as the blankets. The snake is a snake, long and evil looking, and the blanket’s pet, for whatever that’s worth. As for the blankets —“

Without warning, except the very slight sideways glance she gave Harry so he could turn away, she flipped over the top of the blankets, exposing the mess of skin, blood, tissue, bones, and brain matter that used to be a hairless and scaly-looking, dark, raw, reddish black crouched human child looking thing with arms and legs that were thin and feeble. Now it looked more like the worst imaginable stew had been left out on a hot summer's day for ten years.

After much retching from all the adults, Hermione continued, “This is what remains of the lord supreme Voldypants, in all his disgusting, beat up, dead glory.”

While they’d been talking, someone had apparently collected the other three champions, as they heard Fleur exclaim, “Eugh!”, while Krum grunted, “That’s disgusting”, and Cedric said, “I’m glad I didn’t have to face him in a graveyard, I’d probably have died from fright and came back as a sparkly vampire.”

But all their ruminations were suddenly cut short, as out of the maze suddenly burst a starkers Ronald Weasley, yelling and screaming. So before he could interrupt the task any more than he already had, Professor McG grabbed him by the ear, and drug him off to the side to give him a thorough spanking before determining his punishment and announcing it to the crowd once things had settled down from Harry and Hermione bringing their prizes back from an eerie graveyard.

Back over with the five champions, Dumbles covered Voldycorpse back over with the blanket, cause don’t nobody want to see that, before turning to address Harry, Hermione, Fleur, Krum, and Cedric.

“We are at a bit of a conundrum, fellas,” he said. “Mad-Eye over there apparently isn’t really Mad-Eye, since he enchanted the cup to transport whoever touched it to a scary place to be killed by a risen Voldypants. And he clearly and obviously intended that to be Harry, since he is Voldypants’ worst nightmare thanks to Bug-Eyed Trelawny — more on that never if I can help it. But it does mean that none of you three who were actually in this tournament to win it ever had the opportunity to try to find it like you were supposed to.”

He was about to go on when Krum interrupted. “Why don’t Harry and Hermione just take the win? They did win according to the rules of ‘first person to touch the Cup wins’, and I doubt I’m the only one here who’s willing to say that they deserve it more than any of us for their killing of that foul thing and arrest of that foul thing — and also for killing Voldypants.”

“Hear, hear,” chimed in Cedric.

“Zat is an absolutely wonderful idea!” trilled Fleur, leaning over and pecking the Bulgarian Seeker on both cheeks, and the nearest one twice.

“Are you sure?” asked Dumbles. “Everyone went into this tournament believing they couldn’t win.”

“We are more zan ‘appy for ze's two magnificent studs to win!” chirped Fleur, snogging ‘Arry and ‘Ermione on the lips.

The other two champions nodded their heads fervently, forgoing the kissing their French friend had done with her answer.

“If it’s all agreed upon then, I shall proclaim it to the crowds,” replied Dumbles.

Turning to face the stands, who’d finally woken back up after watching hedges grow for nearly ninety minutes between when the first contestant had entered the maze (it’d been so long they’d all forgotten who that even was) and when Harry and Hermione had popped into existence with their trinkets, Dumbles shouted, “Everyone! Pay attention to me! McG will talk about Ronald in a second, and he will still be naked, so be patient. Now. Harry and Hermione were transported by a portkey to a far off graveyard, where they killed Voldypants, arrested the long thought dead but clearly not Peter Pettigrew, he of whom Sirius Black was charged without trial of killing, and most importantly, killed that really mean looking snake over there.

“Because of these heroic achievements, and the fact they did, though accidentally and unintentionally and due to that guy over there,” — here he pointed at Mad-Eye — “get to the TriWizard Cup first, all involved have agreed that they deserve to win the TriWizard Cup, and collect all the prizes and accolades that go with. Now, before we can all go celebrate with ice cream, we have two more orders of business to attend to. First, is not-Mad-Eye, and second, is the Weasel.

“As for the first, this clearly isn’t Mad-Eye, and since due to either great luck or a really convenient plot it has been exactly an hour since he last swigged from his hipflask, he should be changing into his real form at this exact moment. Hagrid, please drag him over here.”

Hagrid drug not-Mad-Eye by the ear over to Dumbles, in clear view of everyone. To everyone’s not really that great astonishment since Dumbles had just said what was about to happen, they watched as not-Mad-Eye’s features morphed into Bartimaeus Crouch junior-like features. For that is in fact who it actually was.

Once he was fully transformed back to his real self, Dumbles asked, “So, Barts…. Care to explain yourself?”

With a defeated sigh, Bartimaeus Junior began his story.

“You see, my dad switched me and my mum out in Azkaban using polyjuice potion right before she was about to die. Then dad _Imperiused_ me for the next however many years. No one knew except for dad and Winky, until Batty Bertha stumbled across the secret one day. So dad put a memory charm on her that made her go cuckoo, and is why she wandered away and got lost last summer.

“Winky persuaded my dad to let me go to the Quidditch World Cup, where I snitched Harry’s wand and cast the Dark Mark. After dad returned me home, Wormtail and Master Voldypants came to pay us a visit after having captured and tortured Bertha, freeing me and binding dear old dad. Wormtail and I kidnapped Mad-Eye, who’s locked away in the seventh lock of his really nifty trunk, and I took his place teaching here. Then it was my job to make sure Harry got transported to the graveyard, where Master Voldypants would use his blood to become all powerful again, summon his army of Death Eaters to himself, and off Harry, no one any the wiser — except for the minor fact that Harry Potter would have clearly disappeared under highly suspicious circumstances, and Master Voldypants is always _your_ first assumption when anything goes wrong. So while the plan supposedly allowed Master Voldypants to return without anyone knowing about it, that part was honestly kind of bound to fail no matter what happened. Not that I was about to tell Master that.

“But unfortunately for me and Master, Hermione over there got carried away too, and they’re both far smarter than Master Voldypants apparently expected, as they clearly shot first and asked questions later like any smart wizard would do in a highly suspicious place that they knew they shouldn’t be in where they had nonlethal weapons at hand. After that, you’ll have to ask them what exactly happened in the graveyard, but clearly they won and Wormtail, Master, and Nagini lost. Now if you’ll allow me, I’ll just pop myself back to my cell in Azkaban to await my trial that I’ll obviously be convicted at since I’m very, very guilty.”

Dumbles gave a short nod to Flity, and the short charms teacher and Bartimaeus strolled out of sight towards the Hogwarts gates so they could apparate to Azkaban and get Bartimaeus settled into his cell for the night.

Turning back to the crowd, Dumbles said, “Now that that’s all taken care of, it’s time for the part you’ve all been waiting for, a naked, yet again, Ronald Bilius Weasley."

Professor McG stepped out from the shadows dragging a naked Weasel with her, who was subtly trying to jerk himself off, the subtle part of which was failing miserably since he was completely naked and visible to everyone.

“According to Bilius here,” began McG dressing the crowds, "he ran across one of Hagrid’s blast-ended skrewts in there which burned all his clothes off. But that sounds like _his_ problem to me, since _he_ was the one who entered the maze illegally in the first place. Now, normally, I would give him detentions or some such shite, and I might still for next year, but his mum has convinced me that she has a suitable punishment for him back up at the castle that you will all enjoy, and also for her daughter Ginny for all her sexual proclivities in the Great Hall these past couple months. So make sure when Dumbles dismisses you, you all head up to the Great Hall for ice cream and to see the show Matriarch W has planned for you.”

And with that she turned and headed towards the castle, dragging Ronald along with her.

With nothing more to be said, Dumbles quickly dismissed the crowds, and everyone stampeded up to the Great Hall.


	29. Mrs W’s Punishment

Back up at the castle everyone had soon settled into the Great Hall, and the house elves had sent up gallons on gallons on gallons of delicious ice cream of every flavor imaginable and a whole lot more.

Everyone except the two youngest Weasels, that was. For they were standing penitently up next to the staff table next to where their mum was devouring a gallon of ice cream on her own like nobody’s business.

Once Matriarch Weasley had finished scarfing it down, she stood up. Everyone’s attention immediately shifted to her, even as everyone continued eating their own ice cream. The older woman said something to her daughter that they couldn’t hear, and Ginny proceeded to pull her robes off, leaving her standing their as naked as her brother. Then Mrs Weasley instructed her son to climb up onto the very middle of the staff table, and get into the doggy-style receiving position. Once he was settled on his elbows and knees, arse sticking straight up into the air, she had Ginny lay down in front of him, her pussy right in his face. Finally, after she shoved her son’s face into her daughter’s cunt and he started licking, she stripped her own robes off, eliciting a large number of disgusted groans and the sound of several bowls being dropped back to tables as her full flab came on display.

But that was expected, if not still gross. What wasn’t expected, however, was to see a very large, fully erect penis sticking out from her crotch just above where you could just barely catch a glimpse of glistening pink lips behind a large, heavy-looking ball sack.

Correctly interpreting everyone’s shocked expressions, she turned towards the crowd, lightly stroking her cock with one hand, and said, “I am a completely genuine hermaphrodite. There’s no magic going on down here, unless you consider years of inbreeding to be magic. My cousin is also one, but we’re the first for several generations, and none of our combined thirteen children are. As you all are more than aware, my pussy is obviously viable, since I’ve popped seven out of there, but even though I have balls, they just produce girl cum, and not sperm, so I can’t impregnate anyone. But I do still have quite a powerful ejaculation with a large amount of girl cum that comes squirting out. I don’t have a clitoris, so my only points of stimulation are my penis and a very tiny spot buried deep inside my vagina that only the largest, thickest of cocks and dildos can reach. And since my husband certainly isn’t long or thick, I have to either fuck myself with a dildo or fuck an arse to get any pleasure, and I only picked him to love potion to be my breeding horse to keep up the age-old family tradition of inbreeding.”

Turning back to her children, she heaved her massive body up onto the staff table behind her son, causing the table to creak and sag under her weight. Reaching her hand down to slide through her pussy lips, collecting her juices leaking there, she rubbed them on her massive cock, before lining it up with Ron’s hole. Then without warning she plunged her way in, causing Ron to shriek into his sister’s cunt.

Mrs Weasley set up a bruising pace, plunging her plus-sized dick into Ron’s behind like it was going out of style. Or like a jackhammer on crack set to overdrive. Ronald let out a steady stream of yells and cries and curses, which apparently went straight into Ginny’s clit, as she came with a cry of her own no fewer than five times over the next thirty minutes, her release squirting straight up into her brother’s face like a geyser every time. Finally, as Ginny came down from her fifth orgasm, Mrs Weasley reached around and lightly stroked down the underside of her son’s tiny prick, causing him to come for the first time in a pained, shuddering mess all over the table.

As he collapsed in a heap in his cum on the table, possibly unconscious, Momma Weasel roughly pulled out of him, girl cum dripping out the end of her still erect penis — apparently it was a girl cock, and didn’t have to suffer through the normal refractory periods of a guy cock. Crawling around her son, she made it over to where her daughter was lying on her back, still panting hard from her most recent orgasm. Picking her up with ease, she spun her around and deposited her on her knees and elbows like Ron had been.

Then with nothing more than her own girl cum and Ron’s blood, and Ginny’s own wetness and girl cum from her own multiple orgasms as lubrication (so about as much lubrication as possible, really), Molly plunged her cock into her daughter’s pussy to about three-quarters the way to the hilt. Everyone thought that was simply as far as Ginny’s tight pussy would allow her in in the first plunge, until her mum started hammering into her as hard as she could for several seconds, and everyone realized that was simply as deep as Ginny’s vagina was period, and her mum’s cock wouldn’t go any deeper, no matter how many times she pounded it against Ginny’s cervix.

Just as it looked like Ginny was about to reach another climax, Mrs Weasley grunted and held still, clearly pumping her daughter full of her cum. This was confirmed shortly later as Molly pulled out, cum dribbling out of Ginny’s pussy onto her thighs and dripping onto the table. As Ginny’s pussy clenched on thin air, so close to coming but denied, Molly shoved her way into Ginny’s tighter hole without warning, this time being able to seat herself fully.

Over the next thirty minutes, she alternated between pounding the redheaded girl’s pussy and reaming her arse, coming and pulling out each time right before Ginny could come. Finally, the Matriarch Weasley came in Ginny’s arse one last time, and flipping her daughter over with ease, lightly brushed a finger across her clit, causing her to finally come with a massive squirt that coated her brother where he still lay in a heap on the table, clearly completely out of it.

Climbing down from the table, to which the table heaved a sigh of relief (as did many of the students who’d been worried for the table), Matriarch Weasley threw her robes back on, before casually mentioning to Madam P, “You might want to take both those two up to the hospital wing to sleep that off, and give them a few potions. No pain potions though, I want them to remember this punishment. And also force them to orgasm in the morning to make sure both of their sexual parts still work.” Then she turned and strolled out of the Great Hall, headed back to the Burrow. She had a husband to fuck in the arse, after all.

Soon after Madam P had _Wingardium Leviosa’_ d the two youngest Weasleys up to their hospital beds, Dumbles dismissed everyone back to their common rooms and beds, an hour's worth of eating ice cream being more than enough for all good students.

~HP~

As everyone meandered their ways to their common rooms, and beds after that, Fleur pulled Harry and Hermione to the side.

“Zink ‘Arry’s ready for ze real deal?” she asked teasingly. “Ze ‘ope was to ‘ave ‘im ready by tonight as a celebration."

“Oh, Harry’s tushy is _more_ than ready,” smirked back Hermione as she and Harry followed Fleur down to the Beauxbatons carriage.

Arriving in Fleur’s room, Hermione pulled the double-edged magical dildo out of her robes, before they all pulled their robes off together. As Harry knelt between Fleur’s legs and began licking her, Hermione handed Fleur the dildo. The side that went into Hermione’s pussy looked just like the piece of meat sticking up at attention between Harry’s legs where he was on his knee’s tonguing Fleur’s cunt as she stood over him. The other end was barely any smaller, and ridged, but still just a bright, neon pink, instead of realistic looking. Bending over slightly to tap Harry’s real penis with the tip of her wand without disrupting him from the pleasures his tongue was shooting through her belly, Fleur stood back up and tapped Harry’s end of the dildo, causing it to match Hermione’s end.

Finally he was going to be reamed by his own magnificent cock.

Barely managing to toss the toy onto her bed before dropping it, Fleur shuttered through her release that Harry had suddenly brought her to, staying upright only because Hermione grabbed her and started sucking on her nipples, holding her upright. Once she came down from her high, Fleur positioned Harry to lick Hermione’s cunt a few times, before handing him the dildo to slide into her.

It slid in quite easily, Hermione having been dripping ever since watching Mrs Weasley ream Ron and knowing she would soon be doing the same to her wonderful Harry, just much more pleasurably for him than it was from Ron. Once it was fully seated and attached to Hermione’s clit, Harry’s end already oozing in Hermione’s excess wetness that was seeping out of it to make it nice and lubricated before going in his butt, Hermione pushed Harry onto his knees and elbows on the floor, to take him hard and rough like the filthy animal buttslut he was. Fleur reached between her legs to collect her own release from minutes before, and used it to stick first one, then two, then three, and finally four fingers into Harry’s arsehole, pumping in and out and widening him to take himself. Once she was confident Harry was relaxed and ready to go, she gave Hermione the nod.

Hermione positioned the tip of her cock on Harry’s rosebud, before slowly pushing in. She took her time, rocking back and forth as she entered him deeper and deeper, making sure it was as pleasurable as possible for both of them. Finally, her groin met Harry’s firm arse. She slowly pulled almost all the way out until only the bulbous head of Harry’s dick was still in his anus, before slowly sliding all the way back in. As Harry let out an encouraging mewl, Hermione began working him faster, both their pleasures mounting exponentially.

A second later Harry came, as while he was distracted by his future wife entering him from behind, Fleur had slipped underneath him and taken his real cock in her mouth, sucking hungrily at it. Fleur sucked him through his orgasm, not having to worry about swallowing as all of his cum was being magically squirted straight into Hermione’s vagina through the tip of the cock buried to the hilt inside her.

As Hermione moaned at the feeling of being filled so beautifully by Harry’s hot, sticky load, she began pounding his arse a little harder, stimulating her own clit and g-spot even better. Underneath them, Fleur popped her lips off Harry’s penis, waiting for it to return to its full size before she could begin sucking it again. It would have to go through it’s normal refractory period, but being a healthy, hormonal teenager being fucked in the arse by his girlfriend doggy-style, she figured it probably wouldn’t be long at all. And in the meantime, she could finger herself and play with her nipples. Soon enough, Hermione was on the edge herself, and with a final hard thrust buried herself as deeply in Harry as she could, her own girl cum squirting out the end buried in Harry, painting the walls of his anus.

For the next two hours, Hermione and Fleur fucked Harry’s arse, Harry _and_ the girls getting fucked by _harry_ at the same time. They finally finished with Harry pounding both their pussies into oblivion, before collapsing into a very happy heap on Fleur’s bed, and sleeping till late into the next morning, all three pleasantly aching in all the right places for days after.


	30. Going Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FINAL CHAPTER!!!
> 
> A/N: So we finally come to the end of this heartwarming tale. Please don’t cry, it’ll be okay. There’ll be more stories in the future, if not from me then from other fabulous writers. But seriously, for all those that made it this far, a sincere thanks, for this is certainly the craziest thing I’ve ever written, and I’m glad there’s at least someone out there who’s as crazy as I am that they enjoyed this enough to make it this far. You’re all amazing.
> 
> A/N 2: Also, for those you who want this to continue into Order of the Phoenix, so do I. But this was honestly difficult to write at times, and while I have started the sequel, it will be a while, probably a long while, before I finish writing it and can start publishing it. And I will likely publish other stories, both HP and not, before I get to “The Order of Crack”. But I do sincerely hope to eventually get it done. (And for everyone who’s going to tell me not to continue this, because it’s horrible and one was bad enough — why did you make this far? There’s this little “x” button on one side of the tab at the top of your window that will close it out, so you don’t have to read a story you don’t like). 
> 
> A/N 3: Also, does anyone like the nicknames? I’ve had a lot of people complain about them, so I was wondering if anyone liked them as I get back into writing the sequel. Let me know.

“Hey, Hermione?”

“Yeah?” asked Hermione, as she tossed another loaf of bread into the air for the giant squid to catch.

She and Harry were relaxing by the edge of the Black Lake, playing with the giant squid, enjoying the warm summer afternoon. They had to return back to their homes the following day, and were trying to squeeze every last bit of fun out of Hogwarts that they could before they left.

“I was thinking. Neither of us really needs another thousand galleons, but I have a feeling the twins could really make good use of it in starting their joke shop they’ve always dreamed about. So unless you have an objection, or something better to do with it, I was thinking of giving it to them as an investment,” answered Harry. “And if they succeed, like we both know they will, it’ll be a steady source of income for us a few years down the road.”

“Yeah! That sounds great!” exclaimed Hermione, reaching over and pulling Harry’s face to hers so she could plant a kiss on his lips.

Tongues and several minutes later they broke apart, and Hermione continued. “I was wondering what to do with all that change. Though a matching Firebolt sounded kind of nice.”

“I’ll get you one as an early birthday present over the summer sometime,” replied Harry. “But it’ll be a lot easier to convince the twins to take our investment money if it’s from the TriWizard Cup, and not out of pocket.”

“Of course,” said Hermione in agreement. “And you don’t actually have to get me a Firebolt, or any broom at all. I’ve never been much of a flyer, I just thought maybe with something other than a school broom I could actually enjoy it and not get my vagina bruised every time I tried to ride it. And Firebolts happen to be the price of our winnings.” After a pause, she added thoughtfully, “Although, I guess that would mean I would have had to steal your half of the earnings, too, now that I think about it.”

“School brooms are worse than just jumping off a cliff and hoping you sprout wings and learn how to use them on the way down,” replied Harry. “Though I kind of would have thought they might act like a vibrator. The Firebolt actually has a setting for that, that I think makes the staff vibrate right where you’re sitting, while the rest of the broom remains as smooth as always. It also puts up a spell to keep you from falling and to put the broom on autopilot when you inevitably lose control. I’ve never tried it though, not having a pussy and all.”

“Minor requirement,” laughed Hermione, before saying seriously, “But the school brooms are more bucking than vibrations — or at least too much bucking to allow you to feel any of the vibrations. Just imagine someone whacking your penis repeatedly with a stick. That’s what it was like on my pussy lips. I’m beginning to grow a suspicion that the pureblood families make first years learn how to fly on cunt-punishing brooms on purpose so girls won’t want to play Quidditch, and all their inbred boys can make the teams out of a lack of competition. Since there clearly isn’t _anyone_ on the Slytherin team who got there on talent.”

“Ouch,” cringed Harry in sex organ sympathy. “And that does seem like something the majority of the pureblood families would do.”

“Oh, yeah, of course I don’t mean _your_ family!” exclaimed Hermione, quickly pulling Harry into a hug. “Everything I’ve ever read about the Potters from the four dozen books or so I’ve read on wizarding families says they were the nicest, most helpful family of wizards to ever live.”

Harry was just about to say how he knew Hermione wasn’t accusing his family of trying to keep girls off Quidditch teams by battering their vaginas, when an owl suddenly came swooping down to them, landing on the blanket in front of Hermione.

“Oh good! It made it before we left!” exclaimed Hermione, excitedly grabbing the note off of the owl’s leg, before handing the owl a piece of bread and sending it flying back into the sky (the owl, not the piece of bread).

As she read the note, Harry asked, “What is it? I haven’t seen you this excited since you pulled me into the broom closet on our way back from breakfast this morning for a quick shag.”

“I asked my parents earlier this week if you could just stay with us over the summer, since we’re practically already married by now,” replied Hermione. “And they said yes!” she finished with a squeal, throwing her arms around Harry’s neck and tackling him to the ground, peppering his face with kisses.

“Wow! That’s amazing!” exclaimed Harry as soon as Hermione finally let him go. “I can’t wait! And I’ll finally get to see your house for the first time.”

“ _That’s_ what you’re excited about seeing?” teased Hermione. “Not my pretty pink pussy, just dripping for your gigantic cock?"

“Hermione!” exclaimed Harry, scandalized. “We’ll be at your parents’ house!”

“Mansion, really. Castle, one might even say if they were so inclined,” shrugged Hermione. “And my room is more than far enough away from my parents’ room that they’ll never hear a thing no matter how loudly you make me scream. I certainly can’t hear my parents from my room when they’re being passionate and getting it on, very loudly. More than once I’ve been reading in the kitchen and had to escape to my room because of the noise.”

“Eww,” replied Harry. “But good to know. Now, it’s almost supper time, shall we go find the twins and give them a pot of gold before we eat, and then afterwards maybe I can find out just how much noise _you_ can make?"

~HP~

Twenty minutes later, they’d collected their winnings from their dorm room, and found the twins.

“Hello, my fine good fellows,” greeted Harry as they walked up. “Hermione and I would like to proposition you."

“What do you have in mind?” asked twin number one.

“Harry and I happen to have happened upon a sizable cash influx recently, as you might have heard,” said Hermione.

“We might have heard,” replied twin number two.

“Well, as neither of us has any immediate use for it, we thought we might be interested in investing it in your joke shop business you’ve mentioned a time or two hundred,” continued Hermione.

“A bit of a startup investment, one might call it,” added Harry. “Something to get you off the ground, and in exchange, we make a little stream of profit in a few years when your business is booming.”

“Splendid!”

“Exquisite!”

“Magnanimous of you!”

“Charming!” replied the twins.

“Well, here’s the gold, get to joking off,” laughed Harry, handing over the sack full of galleons.

“We’ll make you proud.”

* * *

The following day, the Hogwarts Express winded its way through the Scottish and English countrysides towards Kings Cross Station, London, England, Great Britain, Europe, Northern Hemisphere, Terra, Milky Way — as opposed to the _other_ Kings Cross, that’s somewhere else.

That morning they had said goodbye to their fellow champions, with a rather _personal_ farewell to Fleur that had started in her room in the Beauxbatons carriage the night before. The Frenchy had promised to come visit them at Hermione’s castle over the summer, so they wouldn’t accidentally forget who’d brought them their special powers in the first place — and because none of them were sure they could make it two months without smashing pussies and dick. Their goodbyes with Cedric and Krum had been much more decent, of course, but both had promised to try to stop by for a visit sometime before Harry and Hermione headed back to Hogwarts in the fall.

Once on the train, Harry and Hermione had found an empty compartment near the back of the train and locked the door and blacked out all the windows, so no one would bother them on the ride back. The passed the ride much as might have been expected, fucking, and reading, and then fucking some more. Eventually, the voice echoed through the train telling them all that they would be reaching Kings Cross in fifteen minutes, and that all students going back into the muggle world needed to change into their muggle clothes.

As Harry pulled out his boxers, jeans, and t-shirt from inside his trunk, he happened to glance over at Hermione and saw her pull out a lavender bra, and consciously realized for the first time that she _would_ wear one over the summer. He was so used to the wizarding world where no one was allowed to wear anything under their robes, that he’d completely forgotten that she would wear normal muggle clothes when she wasn’t at Hogwarts.

Catching him staring at her bra that she was holding as she pulled out the rest of the muggle clothes she needed to change into, Hermione smirked, “Like what you see?”

“Always do,” replied Harry cheekily, “I’d just forgotten that you wear muggle clothes over the summer since I never see you in anything but robes.”

“Most of this year you haven’t seen me in anything,” Hermione smirked back, before saying more seriously, “But yes, I’m a girl, I wear a bra when I’m out in muggle country. For some reason, Hogwarts doesn’t teach any spells for supporting your breasts without needing to wear a bra, despite the fact said spells exist for our robes. Of course, I’ve never ran across any clothing spell books in the library or Flourish and Blotts, so maybe it’s all intellectual property. But whatever the case is, I was thinking we could work on creating a spell this summer — maybe even one that makes it look like you’re wearing a bra, and can still be taken off like a bra and feels like a bra from the outside, but is purely magical and doesn’t actually exist so it of course still feels like you’re not wearing a bra since you aren’t. No expensive purchases ever again, with all the colors and designs you could ever possibly want.”

“That’s definitely an out of school project I’d be interested in helping with,” replied a fully dressed Harry, as he walked over and picked up the real bra from where Hermione had set it down on the seat as she pulled on her knickers and jeans.

Hermione held her arms out for him to slide the straps up them. Making sure the cups were up against her perfect breasts, Harry reached around behind her to fasten the clasp, before moving his hands back to the front to move her breasts until they were perfectly situated in the bra.

As he stepped back to enjoy his handiwork, Hermione smirked, “I might have to let you dress me every morning if you’re going to pay that much attention to detail,” before grabbing her tight-fitting shirt and throwing it on, so they’d be ready once the train finally came to a halt.

Once the train did halt its forward progress and open its doors, Harry and Hermione waited until everyone else had made themselves cease to be onboard before finally doing the same, carrying their magically lightened trunks and stepping through the magical barrier out into the mundane muggle masses. They found both Hermione’s parents and Uncle Dursley waiting for them, standing about as far apart as they possibly could and still both be on the cramped muggle platform. Uncle Dursley could clearly tell the Grangers were the sort of muggles who’d taken a liking to their magical child, which in his book made them as bad as any actual witch or wizard.

Deciding he had nothing to lose, Harry strode over to his uncle and slapped him across the face as hard as he could, before saying, “To both our great pleasures, I will not be going home with you, and hopefully will never set foot on Privet Drive again as long as I live. I would say I might need to come by to collect some of my belongings, but they’re already all in my trunk, since I basically never had any personal belongings before I found out I was a wizard. So goodbye, and good riddance.”

Then he turned and strode over to where Hermione was waiting with her parents, the entire platform cheering and clapping loudly. Both of Hermione’s parents hugged him tightly, Hermione’s mother not shy about squeezing him firmly against her full, firm breasts.

It reminded him a lot of Fleur’s girls, only Hermione’s mum’s were clearly ensconced in a bra instead of hanging free beneath robes. If she kept hugging him a lot over the summer, maybe he could convince Hermione to buy her mum some witches robes. Speaking of which, did anyone make witches robes that looked like a muggle t-shirt and jeans? If not, maybe that was a suggestion for the twins to expand their business into — he was sure they were creative enough to figure out a way to adapt witch robe properties to muggle t-shirts, and God knew witches and wizards needed all the help they could get dressing like muggles on the rare occasions they needed to blend in. And it would go well with Hermione’s line of magical bra spells.

As if reading some of what was going through his mind, Hermione leaned over and whispered into his ear, “She goes braless at home, and loves hugging even more than the Weasel mum. Speaking of which, I usually go braless around the castle, too."

If Harry hadn’t already been sure that this was going to be the best summer he’d ever had, he was certainly sure now.

He and Hermione followed her parents out to their car, an all-original Bentley 8 Litre, from well back in the day. They piled their trunks into the boot, before climbing into the back seat, Harry’s arm wrapping around her shoulders and Hermione snuggling into his side.

As he pulled out of the parking lot, Hermione’s dad said, “Harry, I’m sure Hermione’s told you a lot about our family castle, which ever since we learned that Hermione is a witch, we've believed to have most likely been passed down in the family from whichever of Hermione’s ancestors was the last witch or wizard in the family before her. But before we get there and you can have a chance to explore it for yourself, would you two like to stop by Diagon Alley to pick anything up before we head there?"

Harry turned slightly and whispered into Hermione’s ear.

“This is going to be the best summer ever."

~THE END~


End file.
